Coughing through ekphrasis

[locksmithy]

200. November 20, 2010 (sat.)

i wish the day had been the paragraph
About the wood stove-heated corner
Of the artist studio, empty save for red rug

Many have stood nude just there
i had you pose by the steam-smudged
Windows, oh yes acrylic, asinine painting

Entertaining my friend the canary
(Who feels surely they had a mirror
In their cage the last life)

i have always wanted to be a cat
After learning my friends are roaming town
Muttering about poet laureate leaf-blowers

i wish i wasn't afraid for the neighborhood cats
Stealth-ing into the cold dens under old porches
i capture indoor acrobatics, eyes crossed

Most luxuriously, a fluffy frontispiece--
A real replacement for peach cannot be found
i rub white patchouli on wrists, cap the paint

i wish the night to be a morose tea rose coda
i will trip you on my red rug




week29: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
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