Channels

by Kevin McLellan

In the subway all the down
escalator people jog

and the up are statued — I am one

of them. Outside a small thing
and its shadow dart

(or darts?) into the hedges.

***

This will be a long relationship,

yet I don’t want to give
my pain, which I refuse

to speak about, too much priority.

***

I overheard a young man say,

“. . . even microorganisms
are confused” and after saying this

he spoke of his own confusion.

***

What is it about the holidays
and tantrums.

***

In many ways I have adapted

to danger, yet the small things
(e.g., ticks, cancer cells, ellipses

. . . ) loom large.

***

Landscape has too many layers

of uncertainty, too far from
earthen composition, from

the visual properties of blood.

An early leaf took yellow and
from the others I extract it.

***

The familiar
isn’t always

the best option.