Thursday, July 30


like the letter Y
as all good poems begin
& humans end,
with a simile

structured in Troy
be but buttered down the end
of some passionate leg
rushing down the st

I see you, (
peeping between trouser
& shoe ) little flesh flash
bought in harp bones as
beautiful dresses
strutstrutstrutting down
the st & picking up my chin

o, I dream of you in scenes

pairs, never alone
perhaps dainty-carved
if stems approach the flower first

ee, yes, I love you & the
air that bare fractures around
thou pokin bones
diamond shape
& wistful grace hello two

is it last of all I lodge
yr wings behind my ears, nuzzle
you next my ears & pit
yr owner with the weight
taken from you to my shoulders
& flustered my fingers
the sculptures you flutter there.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blank Template By