Issue 40.1, Winter 2011

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.

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