This Land Is Mylar

balloons collapsing
 
onto sites of un-
 
speakable sadness,
 
 
it's an orchestra
whose conductor
 
wags a corn dog                    at the horns.
 
 
This land of ours
eats up marches
     and techno
   and heartstrings
       and spit-shined shadenfreude.
 
 
     If you get hurt at the circus
 
you have to join—
no better way to see
 
    this land,
 
which a big bland hand shook out
 
like a sheet          and everywhere
 
   shit went flying,
 
some of which was us.
The Anxiety of Coincidence
Mark Bibbins
Bibbins_cover

The Anxiety of Coincidence

Mark Bibbins

Floating Wolf Quarterly Cover_wolf