The
grass is blue
Tablet
smooth
Oily
and reflective
As
your moon
Could
it be indubital
Could
it be defective
Could
it be remotely
Open
to revision
This
crashing ripple
styrene
toasted
This
quintessential skimmer
Juxtaposed
in highness
Like
a drunken swimmer
The
grass is blue just like a flag
Beneath
the feet of an evil imp
Trashing
cowslips with her rake
Take
that you bloody petal
Fornicate
on someone else's allotment
I
hope a hungry rabbit eats you
Plops
And
cudds your stalk
You
whippet
You
mangle
You
cad sir
You
cad
What's
the sublimation daisy
The
heat of your pants
The
steam of your gloat
Are
you masturbating in the clouds
Are
you tendering
Your
swollen throat?
I
wish there was more to come
I
liked the drunken rake
They
tied my doubt to
On
a diesel moon
(There
was another verse
Wanted
to use a phrase
About
liminal textures
But
it got lost
Somewhere
between
The
hangover of a dream
And
a litany of bloated ignorance
Masquerading
as a grace
Can't
remember which one
Can't
be love or hope
Which
leaves my squalid faith.)
summer 2017
artwork irina savina
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