Blueprints
Larry Narron



Across the street lives a man
who’s been building his house for a decade.

A staircase spirals around his chimney
like the model of a DNA strand

that reaches toward the roof
he has blueprinted onto a crumpled sky.

At night, he burrows a tunnel under the asphalt,
dragging his wires through the dark

to my yard, pulling them up the side
of my trailer to attach to my satellite

dish for a thousand free channels.
Early one morning, after his footsteps

have stomped through my dream
& awakened me, I catch him

on my roof, crouched like a hawk
by the rain gutter, having a cup of coffee,

watching the sunlight bleed
from a wounded horizon.

About the author:
Larry Narron is a teaching associate at Pacific University in Forest Grove, Oregon, where he recently received an MFA in Poetry. A graduate of UC Berkeley, his poems have appeared in Phoebe, Eleven Eleven, Permafrost, Whiskey Island, The Boiler, and other journals.