by Eric Baus
The ventriloquist’s vines fled to an address on the floor of a cumulus pond. The forest formed gills. The tentacles muttered. Eat a bee. Try to project the tiniest star deep beneath this fence. The ravaged shadows repaired in the shade. The numb panorama rewound.
From:
2014, The Tranquilized Tongue (City Lights)
Copyright ©:
Eric Baus
Last updated May 14, 2019