My Mind Is a Piano. My Left Arm Is a Violin

in my heart
there is a
banquet of
oboes

my mouth
is a gated
community
of mongrel dogs

i am making
a fist of
feathers
with hammers
for teeth

i am swimming
in an asphalt
swamp, my belly full of
blossoming stars

William James writes poems and listens to punk rock—not always in that order. He’s a two-time Pushcart nominee whose poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Freeze Ray Poetry, Word Riot, Drunk in a Midnight Choir, Radius, and Ballard St. Poetry Journal. He currently lives in Manchester, NH, where he pretends to be older & angrier than he really is. He occasionally posts things to the internet at http://williamjames.whatis174.com