Ivanna Baranova

pom pom
after Kayla Ephros

grey matter grows to external keyboard

i click and turn it over, broad stroked
and glowing
with the platitude theme

not so much theoretical
as ephemeral—
the snap of your finger
ticks my box thoughts half speed

i’m rings and burdens
i’m air false pride, and the myth of neutral schemes

elemental onslaught getting choosey
call coming from inside the dream

nocturnal clarity is just the heat of the flame
by high noon, clear lava
scorches me right
out of me

mine shines in categories, gut checks
and the sequential mental tease

the forehead ticker ticks vastly magenta
flashes low
and behold like hydrate, release

serving soft drip, or what you’d call
obliteration & reprieve

i get all river, rushing plural
til negative ions
alone
faucet my peace

it’s the ground who longs to be watered

my cup spills over recollecting
the center fuse, the lasting sips of the epsom stream

preset

collapse never anticipates
its subsequent form

a joke about essential error
incites my innermost defenses

thin spun feeling like gauze

the grief of organization
individuated exhaustive

i find a swimsuit
the color
of my purported aura

more presets for the casket

when i outlast the seasons
when i engender what bores

cultivating an internal climate of zeros

is it my dim light retina
my near sight circuit

shit hits the fan with harmonic awe

one motion removes doubt
the other absorbs it

i see something in me
murdered every day

a geometry of calm
resuscitation