two poems by George McKim

across the lake, the

bathers 

are unfolding 

their secret music

their 

teeth are on fire, and

tristan tzara's

new wig 

is 

bristling 

with new 

appendages as

violins 

exhale 

their plumage 

like 

flowers 

poured 

from 

the sun

a room in you

i am the un-you

in the room you are

sitting in a room in me

you are a room unlike

the room you are

in the un-room 

you are a room unlike 

the room i am

unlike the 

sitting you are

unlike the room in you

you are the room i'm in