Benjamin Henry

Spring '93 Collage

1. An invisible man peers in,

offers his hand to shake, throttle, or excelerate to paced speeds,

raceway along city streets with postcard visions,

a woman with long hair smiling.

2. My motor failed exhaustive tests,

emissions blurted out; the priest says,

holding a subscription,

at the stairs of the empire state building,

clutching a plastic model,

an exact duplicate in structure

or taking elevators, their sliding doors

shutting, but the soft bumper and the button,

being pushed from some distant point...

3. I immediately failed to notice that

screeching sound, a horrible sensation,

a plenty of thirst, succumbing, ending.