museu mor ne
in illustrationals, i was drawn to the halls of lights pastelled
with green-blue ceilings washing me through crowds birthed
together in tonals and bleed-throughs all over the walls
we didn’t know we were oculiform personified, dancing up-the-other
that summer the curators threw the book away and dosed the fountain
polygraphic which we all drank from on our way to tickets and neon
stamps under blacklight moon we babbled like a city stream
in the shining street and swirling the ramp rilling of cobble water
the purpur bulbs framing the nothingness of the night highlights.
Sudden lesser lines dark underneath magenta quick and dusked already
faded from the clouds as we reached the roof. we said nothing
we drew the gleam around our hearts you often see en masse
from the coastline after a bonfire we stood by the sky we stood
right by it just like you do a painting or a dying only child
Peter Eirich earned his two poetry degrees first from UCLA then from NYU respectively. His work has been published in Lana Turner, The Boston Review’s Poet Sampler and Best American Experimental Poetry. He grew up first in Europe then the United States. He lived in Los Angeles for a time and now for a longer while in New York.