jim leftwich, poem

​ooze zone, a practice of

light & the struggles of
wind / maybe a dozen of
us, in a kind of makeshift
living room on the first
floor of our dorm, watching
the last helicopter leave
that rooftop in Saigon, we
disappeared we fern and
knife who the blue rose
was or is / coming down
from Bearwallow Gap on
Goose Creek Valley Road

04.30.2021

jim leftwich, 3 poems

​subluxation no jackeen.

snub no sub no
luxury
jack of all beans. one
nation under a lightbulb



impedance the bandage no.
no dancing peas no
band of phage
no blimp pagination no. no.



gelatinous no rainswept tango.
no Latin gel no weeping train
no mango satin nor reptile
fang.
rang pangs rang, rang & rang.