Vol. 7

BRENNAN BESTWICK
At Large

 

In the land of outlawed love,
you and I collect
police composite sketches
of one another.

We pull our mug shots
from the spine
of every telephone pole
in the city.

The local news airs video
of the two of us
necking in the museum,
Goya etchings

of demons over our shoulders.
We dissolve
into each other’s static before
the footage ends.

I throw the record player
we spent summers
falling asleep to through
the post office window,

tearing your picture
from the bulletin board.
I pound my chest at the camera
before running.

We meet in a junkyard,
feed the fire
with wanted posters,
throw bottles at stop signs

and watch them break
under the moon, our love
as loud as the helicopters
circling above us.

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