a n d r e w    b o r g s t r o m

from Meat Is All

 

I wondered what standing meant.

The young boys wanted to be friends and then more than friends.

I saw none of it, the view within dependent upon the view without.




































I wondered what standing meant.

 

and when, still tipping, and being tipped, a sleeping herbivore, or so they say, some of them, the erectness of the scouts, statuesque from this angle, like Iím trying to get a drink from a stream, or a petís dish, the petting, the erections, the lack of anything to drink, the milking of me, the milkman conceived me, my father was a milkman, and momentarily married my mother, my life was momentarily a milk stand

 

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The young boys wanted to be friends and then more than friends.

 

they talked of something else, of loud laughter, one laughed of loud speech, another talked of the ban against heightened laughter, they laughed of something else, lapped up something else entirely, the distinction between lightheartedness and light-mindedness, the distraction between friends versus more than friends, a boat fit for one, versus two, versus more, than friends, what kind of boat, a trolling boat

 

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I saw none of it, the view within dependent upon the view without.

 

I said none of it, wrote some of it, once, not since, but the meaning, the meandering, the barn I was told I was raised in, the open doors, the meaning of a deadbolt, a flaccid penis, locking our doors with the lack of an erection, the erector sets no one would steal, from the houses we treated like barns we lived in, the windows we scraped our erections over, the crude bandana condoms, the lice in the pubic hair no one thought to shave

 

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ANDREW BORGSTROM is a web editor for Pindeldyboz and can be found in the Matted Welcome Desert.


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