KB Nemcosky
OF ALL THE RECOGNITION NOTHING GETS
the one where I tell the alien I’m sorry what’s your name again
the one about Michael from the asylum being punished for being
his own planet the one where Cornelia buys a papaya plantation
in a white tropical rain or the ones where I’m looking for Hillary who
agreed to reconnoiter certain nights in the dream world – the one about
letting kitchen sink faucet drip for years the one about singing out
loud to give myself company the one where I’m sneezing a blessing
or the latest the one about God the sock puppet – in recognition
of all the recognition nothing gets – to you dear subconscious –
to the two of us wearing raincoats standing solo – to the one where
we’re trying to outrun a GPS location pin – to the VOICEOVER who
says a bit abandoned noooo you’re waking up
UNTITLED
a craving for celery
ginger tea
portrait begins to breathe
calendar I’m penciling in a flashback – Thursday looks good
coffee grinder revs
next door
the body knows as well as the ear
some plants sing if you listen close enough
renowned for their perfect pitch
15 colors of egg yolk yellow to orange
58 clouds in the sky
bikers out front at the oval wear Hush Puppies
open their umbrellas
silvery water
Super Tuesday tallies
there are stars way older than the universe
from our angle
the sun looks exactly the same size
as the moon
KB Nemcosky is the author of three books of poems: Drift (Ten Pell Books), dear friend (Straw Gate Books), and Early Exits (United Artists Books). His recent work has appeared in Brooklyn Rail, Boog City and Arc 30.
