The mystical mind, a garden…
‘You will be safe, you will be warm.’
Shadows multiply behind
dancers. A voice with an accent,
as an alarm goes off, says don’t
get up, someone will be in there shortly,
don’t get up. —Then a face
like a rubber mask, snarls.
A gold shade whips across,
moves as if through vertical space
with strength and ease and grace
as in electronic textures and
no persistent beat: you will be safe.
In a dance of perfect stillness.
The world is full of images,
some of them will be transparent.
The neighbors see everything.
The neighbors are (always) watching.
Be careful, it might dry like that.
David Wyman's first collection Proletariat Sunrise has just been published by Kelsay Books. He has also published poems in The Aurorean, imagazine (renamed A Certain Slant), The Wallace Stevens Journal, Old Crow Review, Spout and Green Hills Literary Lantern, among others.