What Cops Do: What We Do & other poems
By Patrick Norris.
WHAT COPS DO: WHAT WE DO
The annoying people touch claws.
They might be the sun.
They have so much power.
I become fog in the tradition of fog,
settling over a golden river.
You become a little girl and cannot swim.
Every night I see your hair.
A man sees a blue light in the window.
He pushes a lever. It looks like a lever.
Some dogs run from a hole.
Some dogs run from a hole in the wall.
This is how we meet.
Inside your chest
there is a skeleton-light
Glowing from roofs of other houses
Moths kiss the tall windows
Golden & nude
The night we fucked
You didn’t want
to end up
like your father
The small river woven into the leaves
Dirge of twilight
neither bible nor snow
Soon I’m going to confess everything
to those awkward wrists
when God sleeps
pretend you’re alive
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Patrick Norris is a twenty-nine year old male currently living in Athens, GA. He spends his time working, writing, and birding.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Monday, November 19th, 2012.