Concrete Nocturne by Adrian Dallas Frandle
We came to the blurred edge of the world, us three, to swim in our definition.
Recently Published
I no longer harangue every desk nurse at every hospital for a taxonomic breakdown of her bills. I don’t ask for the numbers of the Benadryl, the water cups, the abdominal touches done with gloved hands. I am the most American I’ve ever been—she costs what she costs and I eat it.
We came to the blurred edge of the world, us three, to swim in our definition.
I can almost sense the shimmer of some web I suspect I've had some part in weaving
We’re bleeders or will be. This is what they tell us in a dark room, blinds drawn, rows of desks just so
spiderwebs of veins of tendrils of blood you disown
i pray for the first time in years when i see you on that gurney.