3 poems
VOLK AYNO SLEE PINN
assl eepn otdr eemn
this figj uhrr ests
ntop ofso ftnn esss
proe ntoo sddn fits
reli djns hahv binn
theo loge ized frth
onsl immr grau ndss
onbr oken grah niht
laij yorr brih kxss
inor durr wono ntop
ofan othr then leht
them rest inst acks
ther ssno monn eein
poet reeh yoos juld
star tarr elid shun
good buck rite ther
Blackfriars
The fashioning of person
takes place
A purity sought
in sunken
flowing
mass
The chance lie
pouring material
into a new mold
I remove the face
crumpled
in my hand
A mask will be useful
yes yes
Spitalfields
A cord to be sliced
resembling the wrong set
of reproductive organs
Three hours earlier
I had to watch myself
explain to my wife
that I didn't have
the amount of tender
needed and required
to exchange for coffee
a bitter liquid
poured down the esophagus
for some reason or another
Five years ago
you chased me with a knife
I tripped you and held you
in a grip I later learned
is named a half Nelson