the railway tide-swells of inverse foot-fetish

at 03:03 one night a woman sawed off
the feet of her companion in that bed in that place
in that hour and in that love and context and poetry

press it all flat as a train up the valley
just before it starts to snow
........................that plume
press it flat as steam
say it keep saying it
into the future
.............oh his face was now all ashlar-offset
so smooth so white so smooth so

...........and how weird and the rubble
as doorways into ..............rustication
as though someone awoke
at 5am to find both his feet cut off
all the lower bed soaked in blood
the feet and a red saw cast upon the floor
..........................................an open door
..........................................the wind blowing in like that
..........................................blowing things around
a car gone outside only the wind
—instead of calling the cops
he bandages himself up hunkers down until the pain stops
press he thinks press

he writes the long poem of amputation/love

he wonders where his girlfriend went
........................why she never called
........................what went wrong
........................why she hated his feet
why this was the song she wanted when her coin dropped when her bloody saw
when her feet when her dinosaur when her whirling pets her fish her elevation her distinction
of carriage of podia...

these are the things that happen in relationships
he thinks—these are the things that happen

somewhere far off she sucks at his dead feet
........................................watching reality TV
....................................thinking shit
..........................I need more tea than I could ever get down me
.............................................................................to do this job

this ain't fucking China

.