three by jean valentine

[sally_spy]

Mare and Newborn Foal

When you die
there are bales of hay
heaped high in space
mean while
with my tongue
I draw the black straw 
out of you
mean while
with your tongue
you draw the black straw out of me

Rodney Dying (3)

I vacuumed your bedroom
one gray sock
got sucked up     it was gone

sock you wore on your warm foor,
walked places in, turned,
walked back

took off

Comments

[lightup_tea]

Hey, thanks for sharing that first poem. I just wrote a blog post about it:

http://dearsaraeliza.blogspot.com/

[_swallow]

oof. those italics are so powerful.

[sally_spy]

yes, yes, yes i agree.