Pastoral in Relief
Of the ones that move through bit-split
high-rise to ground tubes
knitted overpasses and tunnels and back
some slip into cracks. Some will go
punk-jumped or wrist-dragged
into a seam between towers neat-stacked.
And it will be still.
No quiver of the patchwork, no arch or billow
of the winding sheet of fitted plots and streets.
Still laden buses street-creep. News sits in pulp-heaps.
Bodies join and stray
under a chink of spangled sky.
In the painting of his picture Buddy Guy
is done in blues and greys, shoulders drawn,
teeth set, teasing sound from the instrument.
How well does it come off the page?
It’s a ways off from sheet music: the
commas that don’t quite make the cut.
It’s spoken out, but it’s like
a slip of paper that reads ‘eat me’. I mean it’s
more than the sum of its parts. Brittle bits: verse and voice.
A pearl warmed through by a collarbone.
Hannah Hackney has work published or forthcoming in such venues as Kin, Raintown Review, and Lemon Hound. She is the co-creator of Dyad Press, which publishes small handmade books of art, poetry, and photography. In addition to her work as a journalist and technical writer, Hannah is currently pursuing a double major in Honours English and Creative Writing and Biochemistry. She lives in Montreal.