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Adam Falkner: Connor Everywhere But

March 29, 2013 by PBQ

after Jericho Brown

Connor on the four train, sports page rolled
          into a drumstick.  Connor stretched out
shirtless on the front lawn, a football propped
          behind his head.  Connor laughing against
the red brick of a café, head thrown to the sky
          like a sail snapped by the song of a quick
wind.  Connor in The Daily News: a balcony
          mishap, twenty-four flights, faulty railing.

Connor through the bottom of a pint glass.
          Connor through the crowd at West Fourth,
a fistful of fence in each hand.  Connor through
          the bottom of a whiskey glass.  Connor
hobbling on a kickstand crutch, swinging
          at stray frisbees, tree trunks.  Connor
on Channel 7: a good-hearted young man, filled
          with hope, always whistling. Connor
drunk-leaning toward a woman at the bar, whispering
          a smile of green lights across her face.
Connor in black and white, frozen on a bookshelf.
          Connor in the tire-gravel high note of a blues
ballad, the scratch of careless stubble on another man’s
          neck.  Connor collected cleanly into a shoebox.

Connor in the search bar.  Connor on G-Chat:
          Invisible.  Connor floating in the corner
of a cooler, tucked behind the last Newcastle.
          Connor circling in a breeze above the Neversink,
curling around the Hemlocks like smoke
          in a dead room.  Connor in a porcelain vase
on a mantle.  Connor in poems that have nothing
          to do with Connor.  Connor sitting shotgun
in the silent 4Runner on the way to his own funeral,
          bare feet propped on the dash.
Connor between eye-rubs on the couch before dawn,
          flashing in and out like an old time movie,
shower water running in the next room.

Filed Under: Contributors 86, Issue 86, Poetry, Poetry 86 Tagged With: Adam Falkner, Contributors 86, Poetry, Poetry 86

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