Moon Man 4
By Jax NTP
sketches during rush hour on the Chicago Loop

each tomato heart beat, softer
than the sole of ballet slippers

the way we keep track of things
throughout the day as if the act
of measurement made us a promise

to measure something is to change it

each tick of the body, bubbles
in saliva, spasms of streetlights,

the way you use a lint-roller, vertical
rotations, spiderworts and slot-machines,
edible hissing coins, such sour aftertaste

to refill the vacuum is to excavate the voidto refill the vacuum is to excavate the void

each chord of cheap tequila, jaunts
the momentary nature of nearness

the way i think about counting distracts me
from counting how many times i’ve washed my clavicles,
now i must reapply soap, rewash, recount

to do nothing is an actionto do nothing is an actionto do nothing is an action

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