John M. Bennett

No itching no boiling

junk labber ,lo ad nee
dle sent ients dazed a
crock the ch amble loo p
d rizzle you-off ,mu d ra
,f lame er ,case re
lurchitation fancied ,twe
et .c lung .c rumb ley
.j olt cowerholt )be
neath the st air( s n o
shirt no heet no b oiler
loo m no bit ching at the
rab bit shitting in yr
grummy salad suit




Sho

but cher ,blo dder hun g
asocreme ung chow der
mititus or a tosis in yr
armpit mitt .the gun g
shape waddles for th the
,porner fr ame ,woo zy
,fizzed wit h pow derless
,scum me ants have left
their nest dust lef t be
hin d oor mer coming in
but dry the sig nails
quiver out




Chud

the lun g rease wings a
head yr f urnace an a ,pill
snake creams .ah w hat
,nake r s hape whizzle
trouble in yr photograsp a
cheese a lake a ,pend le
thr oat an tossing gout the
shammer you were wiping
)like a lake( bun dle
photon a ,woody-light ,mu
te c lung bread th wizz led
out across the bat hroom




W arming

sun ge t s yr
to mb c lot
lashy fence
hunc h be fore
yr dri ppy lap
comp action
bo oth you h
aw st ream
.guzzle h im
an cri sp ton
nugg ets the
stri pping boa
t o lon g c
rashing at the
gat e a ge ne
st ripping rag
e against the
tumba l ed
fuel yr so t so
aked wheeze




B urning

jum p a c licky on e a
doo ble m ate corny
shirt you sm eared yr
butt er on ly grinny in
the boil ing pot a b
rick .hu g yr c hump
arm an d rag yr c
hawed h eel befo re
the suit a clus ter of
sun g nos tril nuggits
kinda namey an a
luggage throat ed
,bush t





B low

bool no ,r s cam fun t amp
s hedder c ash a gain st
the shitty c age b ars
viscous as h into the din
er with yr arm y r me at g
as st inks y r ,poo l o
drugguts an a foamy-
mask t .he long por k sha
dow rust les in yr
engineroom yr c rump a
round the w alls the single
s tone focu sed in yr s
horts yr shor ts




Souk

gun k h alf c hot m oot
sin gle foun der was t
he gak sock you ,c
hort mutts ,mazer ,foal
n atter f lowered like a
voted turd th e bur
ning end an wate r
folded shoot the sou p
.up an ,com boca s
labbered r atted half t
he left’s what ,nut tin
,nagging ,nimbus l ost
w here yr p ants o
ughta be en




Ghast

b lick m ate b lock s
ump ire rotting in the
sew age lin es the
pun ch fla vor crow
ded bamner next th e
humming deadwheel f
ace yr sw eet smiley
g host yr ,punchy one
,nabber ,dro ,ped gut
,ham more f linger sh
ot yr nou guts off the
p age was d rai ned
the




Usher

dropper an a gush er
an a un it an a ped al
an a fend er burn ing in
the woods the honk tire
lathered wit h yr
compro miso why t he
gag .the s hop d rif ts
toward ,ape collapse
,the ants don’t move
the ,maybe the hole
may be t he wall mayb
e the fall ing t ruck
your d rug w heels in




F lump

see mer wha t a see per
ope a cra p cas e sent
ient notting no thin s
haking in the le ns gou
lash r ace of tree dle an
yr for k fires in the
sammich .buzz me nung
me c rat e my c off sh
ape bl eats out acro ss
the be d the close t b
righter than a s hoe yr
ling o c hump yr ,pen cil
c lanking in the gun wind




Whisp

bo mb the c lump an
is sue numb er gonic
,hop taste ,stub ble
an ,a burn t f oot a
,pan door ph one
corneption cheesy hi
ll the sm oke c raws
off t he num b oot
you fin ger t he so ap
locker w here yo u
puke an count an bun
ny stum ble the head
less thu mping in yr
gaso line that
gasholine a gain a
loss a grim y b linking
in yr fog hat




?

hame suggar c hap t
he clot war you d
rained yr ha ir ha ba
,f lap g lance c hew
you hoff the name
sure .yeah hop drut
,puler am a bees c
hore ,a m sl ant pag
ing whal yr deadex
ay w here’s the ho t
ho le shooting me




Dry

b orn to c raft a d
ripper c oil a c rap
stop .per pee lex
icong yr j ape jop
sprandled too thy an
yr glong stroke
spreadyied me
,snailed an leady
,luck cho ppers in
the str um dr ink the
b oiler rat the b og
hat shabber w hat
you skillet i n the
rains




Name it

fue l sh oe ,nu mb
guts tapered el bow
yr cheek de claws
coughing on my face
the tens remains the
las t head gas h the
tumular contra ction
wha yr sh ape blen
,soam a cash ew ,nek
a did spunner loud an
gristly washed yr
outer casket




Hurl spoon

sam b lam soaker
glows the spigg ot
hat beneath yr
shitty throne o jail
to the chief t he
sodden bread puked
.fuming for king
flacking fla king on
yr nick tined horts
an S .justa spitter
ham just a clamoid
gro mmet g runting
in the wrong cr ude
soup




Broom

dog pool dampy
one no sodden
horde what dri
bbled me .you a
not .blap gort ,stu
b suiter shaking in
yr gasoline an b
looms an b ooms
shor ter t han a s
pit .duc k an die
,y r mat e half b lip




Change page

sop c lap sip p
lunge the grit
whool shame din g
the bus h bl urts
cob ble me a storm
an jer k the shad
cr eep ,shoot im
.lessor morts can ‘t
think or h ame the
grollots of the
bloody bo ok he g
runt



Jewel

dung hammer an a
jot soaper an a cue
stunned ch opper
sat a c rack
chancer crikly
dense li ke turd
jum per so’ed yr fi
le drench das h
ahead an glim mer
in the anus .vote
for this one




Sungk

bot her on e an b
rimmer numb e r st
rayed the yr
fountain b ridged
knotside the gn ash
floater what’s an
eyen just s pend it
in the bli nd .the
how l dug ho le filla
corn sy rup just
sleep it off an dip yr
h air



D one

seems to hu
m a lot ta
sandy one
im pacts the
shor ter disk
th at
growling in
the street an
n ether bee
ping w hata
soaker bla
zed down n
in the pit an
s cattered all
my eye n



Hung

berm ham chee
se crow dead
down yr fat
shoulder eye a
storm don’t get
here the s
idewalk rots t he
is sue st umbles
in the u tter sha
de of greasy
ladders wh ere yr
forks g litter on
the r oof a sp
arrow rolls o ff
the pe ak