Tony Mancus
limping dog with its | mile
wires stretch across a state their measurement
can with
a necktie in
red (the can)
striped (the tie— blue/black
blue/black)
boy on a string being carried
across the crosswalk by balloon
(shape of balloon dawned from memory)
(drawn with money)
a number of people in silhouette at the train stop
the sun invisible behind them
their bright shapes move
until the train covers them
girl walk/boy walk
difference measured
at the shoulder
at the hip and
sew hemlock and swagger
swatches of stand alone— a hair for the mice
to haggle over
together
Dear cosmopolis: a note for doctor’s
excuse—the new train cars
need us
(ride peaceably)
a garden
of people sent
to seed
fantastic neighbor dancing—guy talks
shit with his shirt half-
buttoned even
winter
the crisp sibyl
the cracking sky
blue over all
our feet—hatted
with shadow a spectacle
one block over
a strike and goodbye
my sign you’re dancing
you spray an ocean sized salt
the neighbors above and below us
belted with their bones and leaved
Tony Mancus is the author of a handful of chapbooks, most recently City Country (winner of the Seattle Review chapbook award). In 2008, he co-founded Flying Guillotine Press with Sommer Browning, they make small books. Also, with Meg Ronan he curates In Your Ear, a reading series in DC. He currently works as an instructional designer and lives with his wife Shannon and three yappy cats in Arlington, VA.