Went to the Park
on Monday afternoon
, saw the worms dripping
with the pools in spread
o’er the gravel, a
sort of natural barrier
not much of a savior
for the stragglers
, stuck like dried-up veins
in stretch of black-leaked-grey.
Posts published in “Poems”
there is a light around every shadow
even if you do not see one,
there is one somewhere beyond your view
in plain sight
though maybe not by you
all of poetry can be written on a single line.
yet feet,
still to be forgotten,
land as though soldiers,
having marched
for daily ends, tired
but willing, sacrificial
for the means of heads
not needing to be in worry of
their placement, actions,
retirements.
how two beakers, distinct,
one
fluid-brought for sound, as in
flowing whistle, while
other
stutter-steps in voice, vocals
as fidgeting as the quick-swift heart–
how they, in unison,
one
before other,
practice/perfect/teach
to be as lovers
in the song,
they, these,
one and other
in a littoral sense,
her bottom-thighs,
riding the warmth
of dress, cotton,
press to cup snug
the linear edge
dropped o’er by
legs
literally shaking, she
swift-caught her heel
to be in place upon
the floor, beneath
bench as though
she knew not
where to sit,
yet sat
f’r sure.
anyone else find it funny how the, “hurricanes,” and, “heat,” won their respective championships, over the, “oilers,” and the, “mavericks”?
To I, sought is she
, who be, by any single wording
, less like herself than likely me
in fumbled search o’r open sea
, as lit by fullest Moon, a ray of ‘flect’on/’re
arched/tight in swim of current, the
beauty more her smile than any vanity.
What is sexy?/alluring?
/intriguing?/desired?
From what thought/what obsession
/what force/what goal/what
does the want of traits come?
To some, meek
is refreshing/susceptible
/allowing of a passings-by
/an inquisition/of a try.
To others, curvatures
, full and trim/a firmness
hollered at to be lusted in.
To few, though many
they be, a discontent/a
master/slave pursued as the.
To you, perhaps, a professional
/pundit, brought to thought
or clarity by means, monetary?
To I, sought is she
, who be, by any single wording
, less like herself than likely me
in fumbled search o’r open sea
, as lit by Moon, a ray of ‘flect’on/’re
. In scrape of shine, flick’ring, she
sells short her wait, but more her beauty.