The Origins of Gloss
Through the Logic of Dreams
During the Twilight of Periodicals
Nick Thran
No loop-de-looping around
the gorgeous birds
or depositing
radioactive waste
outside the Earth’s atmosphere,
or making faces
at enemies
through
the little oval windows.
No:
Just gliding overtop of a
major city,
marveling
at the rooftop gardens
of the tall buildings,
like the exotic haircuts
of runway models
from countries you’ve never been to.
The public
needs this,
a pigeon whispers.
We’ll capture
the star struck look
of koi fish ponds.
Confirm which way
each particular piece
of patio furniture leans.
Content-wise:
softer than eiderdown,
while still stomping around
in those leather shoes heard
throughout the halls
of the office towers
that once housed
the great magazines.
Each issue will be run through
the engine’s propellers
and hit the streets
already partially
disposed,
putting much of our
existing readership,
so pressed for time,
at ease. While those
who still enjoy piecing
the issues together
tinseled scrap
by tinseled scrap
can
pull them off of the railings
or out of a
co-worker’s hair,
or contemplate them
from a safe distance—
just an added sheen
on the already shimmering
leaves.