real
worlds
this is the worst time
pain
she takes one side of the bed for her own curls around the largest joint I
got bares shiny white
enamel and settles
into steady gnawing this baby killer whale and me the
teat of some mother
long left behind I can’t grip her
ocean
she slips
outside control ill-spent time when all you do is formulate a
definition
it all comes out the same I am pain the pain is me
it is in me on me it’s a she
we the we
of this our weld
a form of transport
dedication to the art of going nowhere
the
internet of all my
nothing
makes it that
much
louder
and a nowhere-going vessel
ReplyDeletebears its nothing cargo
hurt to hurt - all oceans
till the pill goes down
till day dissolves
till the nowhere-nothing's me
ReplyDelete#204
Slam it
judder it
hard against
the tunnel
upside down it
spinning scythes
sleep well child
a foreign mist
zooms like Alice
there is a hole
avoids the blades
anyway you want it
there is a dream
of chainmail
strange songs
why do you ask
and who would you ask
the everlasting tongue
slides down the throat
the private thing
goes to work
Dear Kerri, I hope to hear you read this poem and many other poems someday. I imagine your voice which I've never heard and Kristen's shouts, and Kristen reading because she wants to read too and your shouting. And me too please. All our fine voices joined somewhere again as they're joined here.
ReplyDeleteYes!!! All our voices reading, shouting, joined somewhere again - real worlds, lawless ones, wherever, whatever. Let it bleed!
Delete