from & Idle Aegis
we jump from the bridge to exchange the burned prairie in our mouths for the static silk of water. Our feet sink beneath the silt of its bed digging deep into the eggs of the Belostomatidae and backs of the war driven Daphnia, mid ambush slinging paralytic saliva into some larval throat. One hears this rush of swimming wings as voices drug against the walls of viaducts, submerged, as our now pendulate bodies lean towards indolent locks and wooden guide posts colonized by Armillaria and the other fungi rotting pillars to cubist renderings of redox. Only if our feet stay submerged in the silt (never able to wriggle free) will we know how to perceive the dense stagnum, will our molecules flee to other bodies and turn them red.
Patrick Redmond received his MFA at Brooklyn College, where he now teaches creative writing and composition. His most recent work may be found in Prelude and Paragraphitti.