Craig Foltz

G Is For Glissade


It always ends in abstraction. In the parable an army

of paper wasps colonizes the narrative by hijacking the wind

& placing it in our hands. A focus group separates objects from


the sources of objects. Intimacy means never having to scramble

through the aisles of supermarkets searching for active yeast & other

placebos. Nothing ever happened to. Proceed to check out the


pacifist in a clown suit. An autopsy performed on the scaffolding of

clouds. The God of Motion says, Up north, that’s where. Her head

drifts above the shimmering monuments we’ve built to ensnare


her. Better living today is predicated on dread & a flowery parade

of anonymity tomorrow. Vibrant yellowish-orange & bluish-purple

bruises foreshadow a film’s grainy carnage. Any critical focus at all


will gather in the eyes of your softest viewers. Note the lack of

circulation in the extremities & how their sentences bifurcate

before you can process them. Another dispatch from beyond


the rim of a volcano. G is for gravity. What will this apple look

like after the ice age? A post supports one end of a handrail. Why

should there not be vigorous methods of discourse? The hand


of a dancer rests above a constellation of freckles. Bells & sirens

transfer from one sound register to the other. Who will alert us

when the ice cream truck is turning the corner? My vote today is my


vote today. Before you can blink, the supporting post & the post

supporting the supporting post swim un-tethered through space

& time. An early detection system lets us know when the ocean


will spill the beans. Just like that, this massive body of water signals

its indifference. Systems of motion & operations of chance

conclude the same. Like approaching weather, their data


is expressed without words or sound. In conclusion, tilted

gerber daisies announce this productive & bellicose era. Having been

made the subject of a parable, the image collapses. Dear proximity


fuze, that pre-designated radius was not meant to show up on your

altimeter. Here’s to how we know & how we know why. Having

long been extinguished, a fire distributes its own ashes.











Q Is For Quaker State


Then again, perhaps we always were obsolete. That’s

why we roll the subjunctive up to the Texaco station

& use the payphone. Midnight is no time to tread water


in order to administer meditation techniques. What

happens when the person who can run the fastest

& the person who only believes they can run the


fastest cross the finish line simultaneously? One of

them acts as an electron carrier. One of them travels

your bloodstream & converts grape sugar into ethyl


merman. Another one is a solid figure having five

faces. Still another. Kidnapped, alright. A chalk line

endlessly obsesses over their own death, that’s how


they became moored to the nominative case in

the first place. An anchor is a unit of measure. Despite

the events of last night, a millennialist has a lot to


live for. Men in capes circle over this city & perform

miracles on our zip drives. Let’s be honest, maybe

you killed them. Like planets, some towns in Pennsylvania


have partial & incomplete shadows. Lancaster: an opaque

body hording dead & dying languages. Harrisburg: a poetry

of provisions, supplies & appraised values. Allentown


obstacle course. Obstinance. Obsidian. Oatmeal. Or any

curved bone jutting out from the base of our skull. We

allow ourselves to be formed into pyramids just so the girls


with the pompoms can induce us to collapse. Oh Blixa

will you ever put down your axe? Half man, half

occupation. Notice the feathery leaves & umbels of


small polystyrene flowers. Symbolism, call off your heavily

muscled pick-ups. Call off your accredited representatives

before they emerge from backstage to check our oil.