Friday, May 4, 2012

"as the form appears the spirit wanes"


                                                              The title of the poem is underlined.

Stepping up to bed, the blankets sip me into                                            Shower: the pores on my back
its furry throat                                                                                              subsume moist-air





Arising next day the cauldron                                                                     Plaque stir plays game
spills over                                                                                                       of alluvial depth charge
                                                           


                                                A ghost of our generation commingled with the rest.



Arising dingy green a grin                                                                             Toothbrush purl swept
on your face                                                                                                     into orbit midnight
 


Stepping in to sleep, that coquette smiles                                                    Bathtub: the mind on my neck
a snake’s                                                                                                          dissembles landfall





           

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