[New-Poetry] All aboard!

[Halvard Johnson]

Wavelength

With opacity drifting across their sunset, Mitsui and Jim spill colors
across the floors of their loft. A column of flame shoots upward

every half hour. Beyond the serrated glass, the knife-edged sky casts
brilliant squares of light on polished hardwood floors. Now silvery  
gray,

a tall, thin window comes into view, turning at right angles to the  
total
blackness above. Suddenly it is no longer dark. A speeding freight train

roars out of the fireplace, and passersby barely notice. What you see
is what you get, essentially. The center of the universe, we’ve found,

can be anywhere we want it to be. Gradually, as the day wore on, the  
light
became more and more pronounced, subtly altering the contents of our

space. Faith, hope, and envy flashed above the doorways and people die
of exposure all around. Consummate rockers, masters of the violin,

bypassed by the art world, just get off the train altogether. The  
train becomes
a very small thing down the track, impossible to catch.


fr. Halvard Johnson, Organ Harvest with Entrance of Clones
[Hamilton Stone Editions, 2007]



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