And the day was a man
With a beard for a bird feeder
A caved-in spine and a forest for a mouth
And the night was a wave, broken and blue,
A somersault between my knees
Lo air, lips, and two half-parted fingers
A roomful of glass beetles, like three dozen departed souls
Winging their way to freedom
Bellies full of cocktail parties and tailored suits with split-back seams
Spiffy shoes
Oh, how stunning you look!
Smartphones clang-clang like broken champagne
Man and wife bound at the feet, hang by their matching cornstalks till morning
Upper lips never move
And I, on a night of small breasts and sky-high panty lines–
the sounds of the side streets and the fields and the crickets and the softly departing jazz–
I, I reach like a red brook, like a broken charm, like the stalk of a sunflower no one else…
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Marvellous. This is a fabulous visceral piece, half poem half prose. Love it!
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Isn’t she brilliant!
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Indeed!
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Such an amazing poem for such an incredible visual prompt.
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Stunning.
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