Another new poem in progress. A few more edits / versions along.




you should know it’s colder, here, and

cooling. know that mere fictitious harms

done dogs reduce me to what would pass,

in certain climes, for geysered tears;

offending pages thumbed at times pulp-raw,

wrung sweaty-fisted and feral-moist as

some left load of half-done laundry

unearthed near-braided at the far edge of

some lake’s humid cottage-weekend

bounty. you should know each new myopic

glance salts my field of vision; this book a

wretched, sodden earth; unturned. pulp

fiction parallax. and you well know, it’s

been suggested, the bark is far worse than

the bite. so, you should know i set my

teeth, and seethe all ortho-tacit; suck

breath after breath after breath. just know

i siphon this air, aphonic – a newly fossiled

fuel; under-tapped, but still well well-

headed. you should know, this is to say, no

one other thing lingers like this telling on

the palate; none spill-slicks congruent along

the throat’s tricky, unmapped shoreline;

none sullies that gulf akin. now, tell me:

would you – could you – be tempted by

some gin?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.