Brandon Amico: You Rise Like Smoke
Ode to the Charging Cable
Persistent whisperer, beginning
of many ends & end
of the diaphanous trek of electricity
through wave & turbine,
fiber & ground & up
through the home’s flooring;
yarn-spinner, enabler, life-
preserver in the ocean of codified air
we’re apt to drown in; omni-
lingual snake threaded through
bedframe up to my nightstand,
holding steady as if content
to sleep for once, but no—
satellite’s floodgate, pipe with no end
you dance within the binary,
the on-off, you eke
motion into the dormant & bray
into the piled minds of AI,
all coiled, conductive, rope
& all the good or evil
one could do with a rope; I
am tethered to the idea of you,
of proximity akin to shelter
or food, & you feed,
blue-lit worm of entropy, mouth
wide, pins of teeth—that’s not
fair, parasite is off by direction,
maybe you’re a monochrome
Robin Hood, catalyst
& balancer, lightning in need
of no rod, where phone lines
don’t grow in the dirt you prosper,
flower & spark in the night,
bioluminesce the faces peering
down, taking you in, from the canteens
of portable batteries
you rise like smoke
decoding a message from beyond—
a loved one’s name flashing
on my phone, dead four years, now
calling,
calling,
calling once more.
Brandon Amico is a writer whose debut collection of poems, DISAPPEARING, INC., is forthcoming in March 2019 from Gold Wake Press. He is the recipient of a North Carolina Arts Council Regional Artist Grant and the Hoepfner Literary Award for poetry, awarded by Southern Humanities Review. His poetry can be found now or soon in journals including The Awl, The Adroit Journal, Blackbird, Booth, Copper Nickel, The Cincinnati Review, Diode, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Hunger Mountain, Kenyon Review, New Ohio Review, Sixth Finch, Slice, Waxwing, and Verse Daily, and his reviews have been featured by 32 Poems, AGNI Online, The Los Angeles Review, Mid-American Review, The Rumpus, and Southern Humanities Review.