here's an old bat poem of mine for ya Lizzmimesiswhat comes into my house becomes me night is an instance the imitation I show sleep and faroff dawnwith its tribe of oars contending beaten goldrose fingeredhands take hold*last eddy of dusk displaced inside a bat flies ineverything dropped whilewe wave our arms around like one and fold up when it stops we with our gravity this one hung up *just inside the front door among shoes I find a snake black one I seek prosthesis of my ownsomething cylindrical about the sameto poke it with, out something smooths from sight *bright out come to shade flies come in with me over my meat I wave my handsin just the way they do
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here's an old bat poem of mine for ya Lizz
ReplyDeletemimesis
what comes into my house becomes me
night is an instance
the imitation I show sleep
and faroff dawn
with its tribe of oars
contending
beaten gold
rose fingered
hands take hold
*
last eddy of dusk displaced inside
a bat flies in
everything dropped
while
we wave our arms around like one
and fold up when it stops
we with our gravity
this one hung up
*
just inside the front door
among shoes
I find a snake
black one
I seek prosthesis of my own
something cylindrical
about the same
to poke it with, out
something smooths
from sight
*
bright out
come to shade
flies come in with me
over my meat I wave my hands
in just the way they do