by Bruce Andrews
If effort could talk
well hid spoils node ads
cross out trill fingered by lament touch
amiss, as is somebody were
the house peeper, a wholesomely clandestine interval
a threat startling in its known
eraser bathos: can a turn burn? —
real queasy glitters silence more delinquent
heat made uniforms from skin
congeal teeth skull as lyric a flame overindebted
poke taut risk scald egregious butter
an exploding since
whining boring spasm overspills
bows on an overhead sacrosanct bereaving
Copyright ©:
Bruce Andrews
Last updated December 24, 2022