jim leftwich, poem, from six months aint no sentence book 159

mauled bling

rotten

out of a pebble

that is a thought

a red slice

at night

it unbo sar

the fire

recr

o

i

flame fire

bean flame

fire beats

corridor eyes a druid spoon

suit wrapp has

concentric

oasis

drinb in an unspoiled glass

poet

beat

s fi

re a

t it

s ow

n ga

me

game

tame

time

lime

limb

limo

lino

wino

wind

mind

rind

rend

end

bend

bent

bunt

hunt

hut

but

cut

cat

hat

hate

ate

fate

fat

bat

at

an

and

wand

wind

win

gin

bin

bun

ban

can

cam

came

game