After the Rain


I stumble the body
like something rattly, improvised, offhand;
the skeleton a framework
of iron wire & chicken mesh,
the ribcage stretched around empty air;
life a series of fractures
on an excursion,
the solar system bent
around a narrow-eyed litigation plea;
gravity a swing sling
around vertigo,
the feet barefoot
in six hours of Morton Feldman grass
after the rain




Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2026-05-21 at 21:54

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
After all that Feldman-space, it’s interesting how the body here resists any kind of Stravinsky clarity; no sharp rhythmic resolution, no drive forward, just a lingering in wet grass where time refuses to organize itself into something decisive. ;🕊️🙏
2026-05-22