Keith Higginbotham



Sometime Tomorrow

I see you always at the labyrinth
of smog, in symposiums you must be thinking
of hysterical apartments

absinthe of stringless midtown summers
walking through beast nights

binged with song, our bowl was a dark
morning voice

indoors, the wings—
bought like a big bedroom of
not sure



White Collage #1

harpo marx said it best

I saw harpo marx
once

in a midnight movie
at college, and harpo

marx was in another movie
about college

knowing very little about
harpo marx or the marx

brothers in general or pretty
much anything else, I left

with the impression that harpo
marx had himself a sweet

gig: no lines to remember, just
ran around and honk

a horn, play the harp or piano,
and oogle over ugly girls

and then later I heard harpo marx’s son
or grandson on the radio

and harpo marx’s son
or grandson said

that harpo marx talked all the time
in real life, and he marveled at

the way harpo marx would say
liverwurst, the way

it would roll off his tongue
just like silence



White Collage #2

Also

wander eventually measuring no plat
form eyes rabbit with brow an

d

across by fall it’s a de
ad bait nimble

wait

wander lowbrow singling somewhere
isn’t owls hyper-
patterning like

a trick monumenttttt

root back light me & you



White Collage #3

Keith Higginbotham is the author of Calibration, Theme for Next Date, and Prosaic Suburban Commercial. He recently did the collage illustrations for Grace Notes, a chapbook of poetry and prose by David Tomaloff and Meg Tuite, published by Unknown Press. He lives in South Carolina.
 
 
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