Perforations by Colin Dodds

Perforations by Colin Dodds
the flaws reassure
Parking lot, internet, all the things worse
for being new and clean
Subdivision houses white and lined up like molars
Disguises for messiahs disquiet us
Fantasy and coincidence move in tandem
A lapse in the logic of divine realtors lets a little reality in
The Woolworth Building wears a veil
over her complicated face
Stone staircases trace the horns of Moses
up the university hill, down the bright gold ravine
At the lion boil, we get drunk on history—
imperial or apocalyptic, depending on your tastes
“There is only one sun,” a mother tells her boy
feet light on wet concrete, outside a tanning salon
Maybe no grand theory can unify all us assholes
The hand that cut us was neither neat nor thorough
How it looks and how it feels are separate things
The difference between a ceiling and a roof
Putting a plastic bride and groom on the waves
never made the sea a wedding cake
Colin Dodds is a writer with several acclaimed novels and poetry collections to his name. He grew up in Massachusetts and lived in California briefly, before finishing his education in New York City. He’s made a living as a journalist, editor, copywriter and video producer. Colin also writes screenplays, has directed a short film, and built a twelve-foot-high pyramid out of PVC pipe, plywood and zip ties. He lives in New York City, with his wife and daughter. You can find more of his work at

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