Tuesday, February 13, 2018

jim leftwich & steve dalachinsky - no one writes poems on Monday

no one writes poems on Monday

couple evacuated from a stunning time lapse
   then collapse within the hurricane's eye
        as the sugar cane went toothie on tootsie's sordid rol
double thin ash elevator coil lips The Foaming Wicca Inn.
sugar came from sunning in a sentence,
hurry.
vol cane Oh--
                eye lap;
    eye aspic;
          eye sea:
         as pictured i see the entire flown
  crocked within the crane's neck wildly a-
    waiting transport to a much resisted spittle vat
splatter.
      rest instead toe mulch sporting trains. baited tinge
        mildly wreckage
    brain within the crock pot
mowing the tireless seesaw sphincter past.
   like a dead worm in a pile of poodle excrement
        extremely porkchopped into obvious
             oblivion as the catchword
                  misscaught the fall-apart thing
O beautifulfuckingshit, i can barely bear the beauty!
   ah the shit is what comes to bare the shit away from
              the pot gotten off & crocked on cappuccino's
  & moz/art dekjekferrurr ippe902 dadaadadtataddddd-aaaaaaaaaaaa.
no one writes poems on Monday.

december 2017