i write you an e-mail........a rainfall of nails, the moon in seamed stockings, a lizard in the rough


you have been laid off from your own movie


your mother with the carving knife mother soap-slicing the curtains


summery blizzard legdangledporch

beetles swarming in through the church doors


the tiny apologetic puddles in the back of people's eyes


the long inch of this night, our fine fins flutter


flowers from the rooftop's secret orifice


we sit in dark rows, watching intently as people go through certain predetermined motions on a raised stage. we devote our lives to this!


how many acres and a mule? a perfect egg, a bat for the fruitfly, a million tiny shipwrcks


a red velvet throat, as inept as the rain


the hand-grenades, the lipstick


high this town, on the big hill beneath the abandoned granary












2 comments:

Anna Montana said...

Love the "hand-grenades, the lipstick" ~

bruce dorlova said...

i like this very much.

wanna visit my blog?

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=188827931&blogID=302809007

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