June 5-11, 2017: Poetry from Richard Lynch and J. K. Durick

Traffic Accident Addict

I’ve noticed
that bleeding can be a relief, like
a sleeping limb brought to life
by reestablishing the blood flow
in changing position
or flexing muscles.

Tingling neglect gets replaced
by a cool vibrant sensation.

Maybe death, as well,
is a relief. Passing from
the constipation of
this form to the next.

I died in my dreams —
more than once. When
you get past the fear of it, the
strange peace of calm
that comes on after the loss
of body is immaculate.

I slept through it several times
now just to be there. The
ache you have harbored in corpus
dissipates. The form that engaged you
is not even a memory. A
tingling evaporation like
watching the breath come off a mirror
with nothing to replace it.

Another breath didn’t matter.

In my dreams I lost
that fear of death, not
that it wasn’t coming, but that it
might just as well be a welcome release.

Workers laid traffic cones
along the side of the
discussion where
no one should pass.

I

was alone on my highway
bleeding down it.

Bleeding out.
Welcoming the coming.

Going to Bulgaria

I’ve never been to Bulgaria, yet I know that this time of year,
springtime in Bulgaria must be beautiful, with all the streets
of Sophia – is that the capitol of Bulgaria? – all the streets
bustling with Bulgarians going about their business, sidewalks
full, and cars and trucks and buses, the notorious traffic of
city life bumper to bumper, people talking, even shouting
all in Bulgarian, a language I’ve never heard; as I said
I’ve never been to Bulgaria, but if I did go I’d be a tourist
strolling through Sophia, viewing the sights, whatever
they are, I’d find a café, a sidewalk one if they have them,
I’d sit sipping Bulgarian tea or coffee, people watching,
listening to conversations I can’t follow, to street performers,
I hope they’d have them, playing stringed instruments and
singing what must be traditional Bulgarian folk songs, I’d be
there absorbing Bulgaria, and happy I’m sure; yet I’ve never
been to Bulgaria, but online TripAdvisor has decided I must
go there, they fill the margins of everything I view with ads
for places to stay in Sophia, Bulgaria, hostels to hotels deep,
the cheapest for sixteen dollars a night, who could resist
such an array, the places to stay in Bulgaria haunt my every
search, my every game, my every online minute, yet as I’ve
said I’ve never been to Bulgaria and plan never to go there,
though I’d like to see Bucharest, but that’s not in Bulgaria.