To watch the heaving distress
is a call to open natures
a sticky fig brown cake
In the corner
finds dad
tiring up hill
sweat touching the ringing
wheatstalks to his mouth
screeching birds to his eyes
screeching bells to his ears
a mockingbird hisses floral patterns,
chews old sundays,
finds time in early champagne,
loves mother new - but still live healthy
Donna finds still-hating in
Judy's dinner "still a whore"
never ending
all in black
fist-balling up stairs
eye kniving
spilling up
past mockingbirds
past hum-trunks old sound boxes
tickling knees to wood
remembering why sisters stay
dads die
the wind
still goes
bells over bells
6.5.07
Poem: To Watch The Heaving Distress
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I like "still-hating," "hum-boxes" and "bells over bells" especially.
ReplyDeleteI like what happened from napkin to blog. Really beautiful, tight language.
ReplyDeleteOops. Realized this was the notebook one. Still.
ReplyDelete