Poetry · 2026
Second Current
On the branch of a power line we ride electric light into the horizon.
Electric light, ec-static melody, neon as a second riser, a second current.
We dance like sparks in solder— fleeting notes on a piano, and charged among our copper and gold instruments.
I’ll wait at the end of the line—
At the end of the line for you to ground me again.
Written 27 October 2026