I lost my wings during immunization.
I lost my wings, and the ability to pump the brakes.
The ability is dry. For futurism, it is wet.
The ability spread across the land. Even your
beauty spread across the land like a family tree.
In west Africa, the young men ponder you
your wings. And when the day breaks
I’ll break this canvas plane with gobs of paint.
The background falls out of focus. Emergency
requires sixty inch-deep depressions of the throat,
if you can open your life. So swing wide open
your Doors; strike luck against the road; watch
rose sparks fly. This elegy is accompanied by a speaker.
Ryan Schaefer received a B.A in English from U.C Berkeley (2012) and a M.F.A from Brooklyn College (2014). Previous work has appeared in the following publications: Berkeley Poetry Review, Five Quarterly and Best American Experimental Writing, 2015. He currently lives in Portland, Oregon.