Prose Poems

Max Henninger

Scabs cigarette burns. Clipped wire mouth. Windows blown out, per aspera. Frost Bite. Aspiration of vomit. Exit region: hostile. Ledger of errors, sub zero. Night as conduit. Distance. We didn't know these things before we got there, and when we left, those places had names. Pale light. Sleetpatter.

This hinge moment this register of injuries. A sonorous cavity a major offense. All structures now fully collapsed. Crystals everywhere. Photons racing. A passing star a searing pain. A powerful x-ray flare. A hissing noise that just won't stop. Shadow play. Flutter of eyelids.

Now a thing of the past. A paean a song of praise. A panegyric a perfect occasion. A bone graft an obscene gesture. Noxious thoughts. Flash of white. Ballet of data points. Spiraling steadily from eight centers. Hurt both ways this morning. Pissing through the woodwork sinking in sand. We'll soon not hear them anymore. Ossification.

Max Henninger is a writer and translator based in Berlin. He recently released a 60-minute cassette tape of poetry and music with German experimental music duo poesi fysik. His chapbook Poems for Two Voices is forthcoming from Akinoga Press. He can be found on Instagram (@tower_of_days) and Twitter (@henninger1978).