laura mullen

Stratocumulus

An endlessly reproduced “voice”
Ghosts surface after surface

Product of the product
Of the “impressions of space”

Strato-cumulus you think
You might reach in and

Wring them of light or light
A future by these brief

Attachments
A cloud like a citation like

Some essential duplicity
Skim reimburse

The haunting sense I could—by eavesdropping & eavesdropping only—learn at last the truth being kept from me susurration behind that wall that shut window’s pulled shade that closed door muted truth my existence would damage or destroy I bent to intent wanting to be close enough to know finally not to halt by my presence someone must at last admit     dissipates

“Endlessly” a voice repeats
Ghosts coordinates crossed  off

A disturbed chaotic sky
A transitional form I think

Reach in like lights
Oh so that’s what

Never was wasn’t was this emptiness (rough)
Clued me in (retaining wall) (the again)st

Their allusion the conditional in what
Hopeless vanished droning spoke

Sad cloud
Oh no                                    that’s science