You are as thick as molasses, brown as oak, and your ears are crêpes suzettes; your cheerful legs are also thick. The pupils of your eyes are small bridges to disaster (after). Your cheekbones cut the cumulus clouds, and your toes are decimal wonders; your pancreas is a mighty fortress to our God. I remember your kidneys, plumlike, and shaped like violas. All your orifices tell of wonders; surely your ass is a wiry insect that I feel but cannot see (woe is me). Your breasts dance; your aureoles are gazelles that sleep in meadows more blue than green. Your vulva is an apple already peeled, as wet as fresh moraine, alive as snow.
I have lost your fingers and must find them again.
- ► 2017 (69)
- ► 2016 (151)
- ► 2015 (62)
- Metrical Exercise: Trochaic Tetrameter (Waiting fo...
- BETWEEN ECLIPSES*
- I AM NOT YOUR INSECT
- I have lost your fingers
- I am the new poetry editor for MadHat Annual!
- Happy Bloomsday!
- Daddy's Elusive Love
- Mersad Mostaghimi's Translation of "Your Probabili...
- Your Probability Amplitude
- Mikhail Niziaev's beautiful Russian translation of...
- Saturn series June 9 to feature Larissa Shmailo, p...
- A Sop for Cerberus
- Poem in Random House Anthology
- ▼ June (14)
- ► 2013 (27)
- ► 2012 (32)
- ► 2008 (15)