Current State i.m. D.P.

Metonymy has dropped its plumes

in my bloodstream

all circulation now is writhing

with lost leader poisons.

My scarred skin skin stretches over

dreams drinks its lactate

from the sun. The tastes

of small viadicums colors my pills.

Urine fills all arroyos. Beneath

each synapse the messages lie

against the accumulating dirt.

Someone is trying to reach out

in a language shifting, lofty as dust

to a heart alive on a fig tree.

Gerald Schwartz lives and writes from West Irondequoit New York, recovering incrementally with the love and faith of friends and family. He can be reached at

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