Conservations: Out of Thin Air

Sam Prudente



The air I skate on is thinning with each foul breathing denier.

Faster than I can recount them, my hair falls too

(and in my dreams, my teeth)

and I lose track, just trying to keep a crack open

          on a sliding casket/

/closet door between where I can cower, sleep blind forever/arise reborn:

Phoenix, Spirit Anima!


(I &) II.

OK, so for argument’s sake let’s all just agree.

There is no global warming: just a resurgence… of

(boxing me in and all others like me)

       ( (the nuts who can see the wind) )                    global weather patterns, so natural

                      (—we can see signs—when leaves—)                    they’re carved into the history of our rocks—

      (…fling themselves to the ground…)                    Why, the Grand Canyon has them!

(Ever read rocks revealed by glacier retreat?)                    Won’t you surrender these false beliefs?

         (But breathing is everybody’s birthright.)                    Why waste so much hot air on this topic?

(O.K. So, who gets to get just one more, when we’re all down on the floor?)

C’mon, the last few gulps of air?!? Due to global warming? No. Such. Thing.


III. (& I.)

Ever wonder if trolls & those who don’t believe in reincarnation can ever be reincarnated?

(As, what?)



IV(& I.)

if, then: who will have the last gasp?

(                                                                   )


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