"Look at that, Schlitz for breakfast"

[locksmithy]

251. (jan. 10, 2011 - wk37 start)

Now begins a louse of a purgatorial
descent by increments, a foot per token
of luck, dropped thimbles, beer caps.

Up until you don't want to know-o'clock.
No matter the brocade sleeves
worn while admittedly not doing anything Poe

-important: staring down ashtrays, aside.
No, no owls, ravens, dying grates
of embers and torched tortured

First drafts, poems the stage--
the mudroom-- the locked desk will never--
scorched sonnets like seeing someone blatantly

pinch someone else's nipple.
No, no work like that was being done,
we were watching Spot.

You know, Data's girl-cat
in a heavy backstory
-ful episode of Star Trek.




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http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (a mo. !!! behind on archives, 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)