Torchable Moment

James D'Agostino

You’ve got to loose a bunch
of black ants to eat the sweet
adhesive keeps the bloom balled

up in its bud. You’ve got to
eat through the body in your head
is one difference between me

and Jack Gilbert, who’d end line
five in bed instead, who’s dead
and that’s for now another.

We gotta get out of the amygdala
more and hopefully up into
the hippocampus. A lot of it’s

just where to lay down light
and a lot where not to. A lot
of birds into dense wet leaves

sound out shook out laundry
snap, a lot of trees italicized
by wind. A lot’s not on the test

let’s try not to take. Learn Lear
ears, we’ve got the year. I mean
we’ve got to get more out of

the amygdala, which means
almond tonsil, and not just
its limbic climb up fear

toward pleasure. Which?
Watch me lecture on really late
summer light or just shut up

and shadow? Choices in the multiple
choice test are called distractors.
Trees rerelease this remnant

rain. The brain doesn’t even
have a brain. We don’t care
how you write it. How does

it read? What should we name
our disease? Wind in the trees
or trees in the wind? Quick

which? There are only two
ways to make poems easier
and harder.