Pulse

Scrolling figures, fingers tap
tapping networks at six degrees
above zero.

Lip syncing silent
shouting over sounds of
two hundred and six stones
knocking on dissected banks.

sway.
swell.

Our laughing mouths
mark muted loopy lyrics.

Funneled connectors
circulate crowds pushing
viscous bodies into
elevated places.

Tunnels expel casual
passers-by, charmed with
excreted greetings.

Their average mouths mark
muted lenient lyrics.

Cheeky Chinook digests
each wildcat morning and filters
the kinky rhythm of
headwind exhales and
boot sole slap.

Mountain breath rips
through oversized pores

to the beat
of two hundred and six
drones flowing through
glass and carpet clad
veins.

expand.
contract.

Their muted mouths.

© SF Jones, 2014

As performed at the RE:act All Souls’ Day Plus 15 Poetry Shuffle!, Calgary, Alberta, November 2, 2014.

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