​prayer letters attached to particles of smoke

would that i could awake in a cavern underwater, lungs cut out so no concern, rolling my head
    along stone smooth structure unseen in entire darkness;
would that i might bash my ribcage open on the rockjut and bleed my bioluminescent viscera
    into the space, some cinematic fugue of blue;
would that there’d be just enough space to stretch out wholly, still open, still, open eyes bathed
    in unheavenly calm glow, focus eyes forward watch:
                                                     blue
                                                        be
                                

































posadist fugue fer philly cheese steak

assume a youtube
    clip of a cheeze wiz can
        burning/ and become empty
            until the aliens deliver their
                advice/ “you gotta put
more meat on it”
    or it was a doctor over
        phone lines/ recorded
            sections of your life
                projected against the
wall they drag you
    to/ i dreamed i saw joe
        hill last night passing out
            subway coupons at your
                wake/ we welcome the end
                with offering of provolone



























1961 in British Radio

scales of braille lettering are
an oxidated metal music sheet

        re:

verberating balloon pops tape--
delayed endlessly emptying

a harsh cacophony cath/
arctic cymbal crashes.
                 ​

---

​

Trevor Root is a poet from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He is beginning an MFA at Miami University of Ohio and his work can be found at Dream Pop Journal, SPAM Zine, and Obsessed With Pipework.