I was alive when that blizzard hit.
I don’t remember but I’ve seen the super-8s:
People asphyxiating in their cars
and there was martial law in parts of some Northeastern states.
And there’s Miracle Car Wash
and you and your friends
making high speed angels in the road.
The same ten fingers snake the cords
as wormed around the first late night.
remember: we couldn’t find her, we thought she’d died.
Nothing behind the black doorway
but the deafening whir of the swamp.
The same ten fingers thread the tape
as knotted up the first late night
remember: we couldn’t find her, we searched the whole house.
Gaze out on the beasts and insects
The cuticles crack and blood comes.
The same ten fingers flick the switch
as shorted out the first late night
Below the dull red eyes on the radio tower,
dim lights swing low over eutrophic water.
I’ve got the headphones on, the gains are high,
the microphones are out the window – live air –
The hands age quietly before you
like dissolute older cousins.
The same ten fingers print to tape
as paw the filthy, teeming world.
remember: there’s no erasure and nothing heals.
The fingers will do their own work whenever the swamp is burning.