April 21, 2016

( a poem that says whenever I reference rumpled silhouettes, I am paying homage to my friend Kit Haynes' poem about the Malden Bridge ) .................................................................................................................#NaPoWriMo2016

to be one of her evocation(s)  
a reader could get lost in

fantasy :
a vignette often found 
in tiny pieced color 
big picture black and white 

this is about 
the theoretical first time 
sex listened 
to music with you  

a woven ballad 
a naughty griot  
and a nymph 
in the grotto too

I'm hand pressing


old felt arts 


your spine 
you are smiling 
towards Hades 
clutching anything 
seed to ripened 
you can 

our clothes are 
hush rumpled 
cotton silhouettes 
at the foot 
of the bed 

the door opens
to an
in through 
the other side 

are these the ruins 
of the cities 
where we stole  
into our sacred 
and scared places 
are these our savior 
moments, clutched at 
nostalgia we've come 
to depend on to feed 
our noses and maps 
they swear by 

we found little things 
we each kept 
along the way 
from when we met 
undertow ritual swimming 
tide getting into 
an invariably 
driven position 

Spring is always lust  
round parts 
arm quiet raw(s)
sought eyes 
wanting wanton 
spilling o'er divides 
spawn letters words 
lines stanzas 
of a soul 
coyly uncoiled 
and rolled again
sheets and tome  
animal and loam 
root, tree and home 

the spirit 
of humanity 
will often drag bones 
kite flesh 
sometimes play 
to stay alive 

when I draw into 
when I think hope 
seems lost 
for the last time 
I begin to beg 
and spin an apple 
round a coring machine 
Lilith darling 
this is
paid freight view-mastering 

you become 
rind wheel delicious 
a back swallow small 
viciously seductive 
radially four cornered 
conductive witch 

and even as 
I know to call 
my own compass 
I am aware 
you are aware

when gravity 
is a lens 
that sings 

work down 
mechanical level 
frequencies ... 

wavelength to
wee conserve 

this rotates 
pole to axis 
double slit-ted to
where Schrödinger
ends up 
almost always 
noting a something 
that nothing is 

viola, easy bake 
70's tv fractal 
spin paint 
little shiver 
and twinge 
you breathe 
shallow begin(s) 
am I qualified 
for her deep end 

you're a cake 
eating what is 
done you too

a service of ales 
as well now 
this poem is
ready and through ...



1st image ~ fresco uncovered at Pompeii 

2nd image ~ 'untitled' by Mercuro B. Cotto © 

3rd image ~ 'Satiro', Joel-Peter Witkin ©

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