To Someone Else’s Health

Drink a slice of the storm, reorganize the newspapers,
Scottish and otherwise stupefied. Anagrams of heavy
breathing, an avocado whole and sublime

Deceived, confiscated, otherwise pure
movements toward common time—

A meter of four quarter notes per measure
a queen bed with two bodies, no matter. Air
pressure in Italian sounds like aquatic dreaming

A cold shoulder, a shudder, and the occipitofrontalis
making a real name for itself. Too much future

for sleepy breakups. Employed and destroyed
the wood is musical, nay mathematical

I encourage the apple core and am blindfolded
by the Navajo someone said home but meant sober sunshine

streamlined into your body is a hive of bees fluttering
They know your cause and will lie down in your cave
They will take you personal like your mother—
draw out the fog from your gut and leave

Ashleigh Allen

Ashleigh Allen is an educator and writer, via New York City, currently living in Toronto, Canada. Her poems have appeared online and in print. She recently published a personal essay, a meditation of sorts on Apollinaire’s poem “Zone,” with The Operating System.