NaPoWriMo #11

Apr 11, 2014 12:54

VOLUPTUARY

Inside the house of the purple broadsides
recant what you know of crosswalks, of what bus
leads where. Let that whole geography slide
by naive and watchful and with a torso full
of pins, happy. A glass face is a glass collar for gloves
don't let her stash your rings where they might
or might not tell anyway this afternoon isn't where
you mark time, isn't where you cradle a thorn
or clap roses go ahead and write that down
or mnemonize it. Careful she's so written
out so careful you'll write about her field
of stars of exclamatory a five plus magic
her circle is charmed like a rhinestone
unknown how often you brought her copies
sought her signature caravanned to the mountain
and wrote about it. Instead of the marrow
kit the bone to a grassblade, no a villain
something not in the voluptuary not mouthy
take the kit and peddle it around to whoever
will take a listen and not moon it not bend
over the laurel and say lo.

.

napowrimo, poem

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