Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Valediction Through the Dishwasher

Blustery knives cleaned out of the traps

and screwdrivers prancing in bonnets

trampling order and saplings tremendously

like porcupines impressing each other

with hairnets and sandwich rinds.


And so, on prairies of hair, the brush

knocks out its teeth trying to

kill the nutria blessed, like shark’s teeth,

in rows. So sugar bleeds from her mouth

as much as she gnaws on the bout bottom.


Anointed bomb, gather the markets. Stomp

the cubes. Order another knifing. Stretch

roads out across this America of knives

so no one will notice its the dishwasher.

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