On Ecstasy

I like hearing things before

I feel them and

the other way



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.