Friday, February 13, 2009

collab phone poem featuring stephen dvorak

a limbless boy speeds past me to the train-
dead flesh heavy in my stomache-
rain blacks the street-

in the naked light, you are there
like a dog wating for butter under the table
loud licking chops
dashing at my knees, keys-

We were what we said,
what we saw in the movies
our hands graceless
iced & wooden
my hand disappears
just beyond the lightpost

broken glass at my feet
the scuff & scrape of a shoe
rotten cherries stuck in the ridges, following-
im going out for water
these walls are tomb dry
these walls make a violent sound
milk bleeds out of them

*

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