Jeremy Freedman

Exit Zero


The wind is blowing
the paper along the highway;
it rolls past exit zero
where the living birds fly
in both directions.

Below the divide
the wind is blowing hard
that’s all anyone can talk about.

I see skin mottled like handmade paper
picked over by snag-toothed mammals
until it bleeds purple.
That’s what I talk about.


At exit zero
I dreamed of hazy ceremonies,
I dreamed stilts replaced my legs,
I dreamed Courbet’s stags were freed
and Medusa’s raft triangulated
above the water.


At exit zero
Life meaning life is the sentence;
we think the world
long-limbed and feverish,
plaited with desire, as a house
seen at night from the lawn,
filled with fireflies, each fly-light equal,
flashing in all directions.

Jeremy Freedman is an artist and writer in New York City. His photographs have been exhibited in Europe and the United States and were recently featured in the Monarch Review and Urbanautica. His poems have been published or are forthcoming in Otoliths, The Wilderness House Literary Review, Eclectica, Danse Macabre, Clockwise Cat and Message in a Bottle. His work is on the web at jfreenyc.com.
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