note: I've been using this month a lot for revisions... sorry:
the illusion of angelization (your fragmentary voice)
trips on the recording, yips / the answering
machine barks, too / welcome (your message)
turned to pixels, to the static of weeds-- dandelions
(begging) / I pick one from your chest, its white
bulb blushing into tether (late to begin)
~
a broken thermometer-- your mouth (open)
to concrete, to rock salt /mercury leak-- the tap,
tap tap / a nimbus of steam belts the tile
(into pocket sized) pieces / peal it back, rouging
fingernails on its buckle & wash
~
we rouge the water's edge with our toes:
this should mean wading; this should mean
not blood / breach the link of sand and not: this
should not mean seep / bursts (blisters on) your
tongue / when I try to speak of it (I sink)
- Mood:
Artistic - Listening to: blather
- Reading: The Body Artist by Don Delillo
- Drinking: coffee