Mark Parsons - One Poem

The Mandatory Daily Meeting Of The Los Angeles Bus Riders Union Local 238 (Solid State)

Indistinct from the finely grooved

metal

“all over.” And

indistinct

from the others

who are

scattered around,

sitting

on the bleachers,

their arms at their sides,

hands flat and palms down on

their thighs.

Maybe the anodized finish preventing corrosion….

Or maybe the chemically compromised

endurance limit of this light

alloy….Or

maybe the wholly impractical bird's-eye perspective

the gradual incline arrangement

of low

density grooved metal planks

our anamorphic images are painted over requires to

see us as we truly are

caused this interconnected feeling that holds us

here as prey for any gust of wind that may disperse the morning

mist like wisps of cotton over the empty and

unused athletic field behinds us.

Undistorted and free of the normal perspective of people

who walk on the sidewalk or drive

past where we sit, unobserved, we consider the fixed

point of the keyhole that blinks with the wings of the watchers above.

Fine threaded shafts of bolts through holes

drilled as tight collars writhe

to saw and grind.

No moving parts is always a gamble.

Mark Parsons’ poems have recently been published in Dahlhousie Reivew, The Floor Plan, North Dakota Quarterly, Antigonish Review, and Cobalt Review.