Friday, May 29, 2009

John M. Bennett

Didn’t See

pustulence and glasses the
drizzling knife contains my
sugar cancer ,leaves the wind
,ignores ,pattered ,foaming ice
inside your gaze at me I
type my type impending drool
.so I “slugged a cloud” oh
hah oh haw could what I
saw be you of jiggling donut
reflected in the window where
my blind is flapping

Flesh Water

hog flavor ,bomb truth ,nap
crashing bags of ash against
my cheeks so fulla nuts
I couldn’t talk .loose the
tumbling foot I gave to
you ,nail a grapefruit to the
driveway where my burning
throne is leaking like a
mountain .where my meat
gleams beneath the streams


my tumbled face rashed a
cross my fumbled shoulder
ticks and eyes sheltered
in my armpit flung I
the toolkit force of ha
nging flags before the
well sloshed with oil
.your tooth splashed there
spinning airwise before the
drench was something in my
skull could I see ?just an
ant just a single blinking light


smell the bucket slop your thought in
drag the bucket steep your second in
runt the bucket clutch your flood in
ape the bucket spit your mirror in
job the bucket pile your asshole in
drab the bucket flag your nickel in
suck the bucket stone your foot in


clot or puzzle in my soapdish
pendulation of the stringy
towel my face formed in
a linking of the slugs drowned
there I focused on the shining
index lingered on your chin
.luck an camphor ,the tile
shakes an breaks I brake
my tongue spore you
,elbowed fistic ,pieces scat
tered nothing’s watched but
washed )ringing out the
shirt you paused and pawed(