On Ecstasy

I like hearing things before

I feel them and

the other way

around

 

The disconnect I guess                 the shadow

Listening             the scent

of Hendrix

 

The symphony of an oyster sluicing down

the throat

The hum of horseradish in its wake

 

And ounce after ounce of Grey Goose erupting

In the guts

like a rainbow

 

The scent of a rainbow is dampened wood

In August and August sounds

like crickets and frogs

 

Fucking their brains out and sex tastes

Like oysters                       the sea

 

Looks like laundry on the line

Just before a summer downpour

 

Giddy                    helpless               everywhere

 

I prefer the Walt Whitman to the Brooklyn

To leap from

but it makes no difference

 

I’ve just crushed a mosquito against my ear again

And its one-note song tastes

 

Of iron

 

I’ve been told dust is my destiny

 

Hurry up

I say

 

I couldn’t be happier


Alexander Long’s third book of poems, Still Life, won the White Pine Press Poetry Prize in 2011. He’s also published four chapbooks, the most recent being The Widening Spell (Q Avenue Press, 2016). Work appears & is forthcoming in AGNI, American Poetry Review, The American Journal of Poetry, Blackbird, Callaloo, From the Fishouse, Miramar, New Letters, Philadelphia Stories, & The Southern Review, among others.