For Empire Builder, Reality Intrudes by Meredith Blankinship

In a freakish 
system of accounting 
with trappings of one who 
belongs I de-bone
each landscape, cramming bridges
and money back inside, can’t help
I just want candy all 
the time to sweet 
and sop the lazy drool of something 
smart to say. I will 
know what was lost when 
I see it, it will be
in your fist, your fist fisting into
unspeakable accrual and
aversion. A shard that lips 
at the bottom of 
my lung keeps me 
from getting there. Cut
around the bone, it is not
a pocket. Is it possible that
I have done no harm. Is a
wound sentimental by
necessity. I open my windows
onto the street so strangers 
may watch me sleep.