Sunday, January 8, 2012

Scarcely Not Feel... Not Think



Scarcely Not Feel... Not Think

You could
eat
an almond paste
table
or
a bucket of them

right
from the can.

          ***

Wells & Fargo
stagecoach
punched-holes
leather
straps
from a hammered-
down
lunatic asylum....

Recycling
through ages.

          ***

How often
sexual
loneliness
takes a train:
small town
porches
roll past
sleeper cars.

Bathed
in tobacco-
brown light

          ***

You
dusk-hold
her
as corners
snow-blind
you...

for
tighter
angles.

          ***

It relies,
this question,
on whether
one
says dirt
or
soil.

Ever
so
quietly.

No comments:

Post a Comment