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untitled poem

accept our nature of output and
intake, going to bed making wishes
attaching peace bag to air







Craving relief of cash flow

In without the night

I feel wired to the fans
and that waking up is what I do

Give you $5 to shut up
give you my heart

We move down
a three-story dominator

I am transferred
across the platform is my friend

Danny comes back says
he couldn’t lay there

Came to me
as a trick

I would unwind this discipline
but the position’s fixed

Use of electricity catapults you
towards time

Ready the meditation chair
fit only for humans

If everything is so loose after yoga
then pull out your stuff

to give a train space

How do you spit into wind?
Just let go







I found you Jim Brodey

The music of birds
lays down as hardened dough
early winter sets
my smoked-on soft eye

                            I found you Mel

             leave you I will

thousands of blocks of moonlike bottom
you’re not making anything sad
light’s minor and extra-temporary
light’s pale

sounds that happen near me leave
ways vary long and narrow small
several arms
but have not lost you
to brown shoulders of the rain
to angles of cuts alone

you allow the mouth to cry again
to feel that I might watch the gift

and I will rest oblong

              another restaurant pie








to me, towards the center
for as long as you can be kept
beyond what normally can

transfer of mind
I keep moving because you keep
what can be said above you

as if the world were him
can keep that knowledge out, move on
not avoid its aggressor

reach out arm to grey roach
see how big relief is when I’m afraid
shows who could be permanent







air march to citadel

got melon
              in Geoffrey’s canal

swept brown malty

long grove
              gas birds

air march to citadel

fell ill




Morgan Vo

Morgan Võ (b. 1989) is a poet concerned with resonance, contingency, difficulty understanding, and the presence of the dead among the living; he is also a librarian-in-training, and a current member of the Poetry Project Newsletter editorial collective.


The Brooklyn Rail

MAY 2014

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