Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Category Fifteen Roofs

Whose back is bent, whose bikini swirl
posts laterally into swarms of accidents

prone to rejection. I shaved
this and nothing happened

sure, you shaved it all and everything
limped away into the craw

the crawl.

Humpback swirls across the Atlantic

Harmattans a cow lick up and down
the side board, the reel in and gutted

sword fish carcass meant for me

a mailed diversion. Hard mats at home

kneel to prayer, kneel to beheading

bips in the odometers, the circles
swing arm dusting up clouds.

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