If It Tumbles Down

Battling here-or-there-fatigue

in brilliant yellow darkness.

The tiniest sounds of fracture —

all eighths disappear from the Inch River.


Tomorrow the lights go out, the bone

xylophone comes into its own.

Albeit traumatized, 

we’ll stroke the thing that hides 


from the mouths of electrical eels, 

place our ears closer to clouds.

Echo, for instance, the sound of water 



down stairs of grass.

The lightning machine needs oiling.

Jan Conn’s most recent books of poems are Edge Effects (Brick Books, 2012), and Whisk (Pedlar Press, 2013), as a member of the collaborative writing group Yoko’s Dogs. She won the inaugural (2006) P.K. Page Founder’s Award for Poetry and in 2003 she won a CBC Award for poetry. She lives in Great Barrington, Massachusetts