|
AMY KING |
On The Ounce That Sells Us Out
Bounced a planet of lateral artery
—blue that brings stark bone home—
in case anything crawled along
A serious street, marmalade chin,
the choir of crying mothers in barn love
with alcohol
for all
On top of my name, devotions, no woman,
chain whips and lovers:
coffee is how
I get other
countries into my body.
I used to do this at home, now I go outside and pay someone.
The bold-faced retractable flesh spills over bleached,
adjusting newfangled business cards waiting for a
tip
that never reveals itself in the light of sight
Except through the force that pushes, not so much mixed
as mixed up.
I.e. A simple
disturbance of walking into and away from
people I’ve never met
Clearly edges out the competition who don’t own their own
pain
yet.
Never Off the Menu
I’m not certain, but I don’t think
the male breast feels
the same as a woman’s.
Somehow,
too much gasoline feeds
through our bloodstreams
and claims
the invasiveness of any procedure
will tell its way into
daily household movements.
Nor do I separate my tongue
from the intellects of normal,
an equator on the psychotic
readiness of ordinary purpose.
Instead, I am but one mode,
jarred and sequestered
in my little star cubicle.
We project dark birds in everything,
hardly too blonde, too clear, to recite:
Little agent, legs of petals,
you were never off the menu,
and I am quite enjoying this.
Everyone Has a
Decision To Make
A never was careful about the number
of books he chose to perpetrate.
A’s lack of frugality, indiscrimination.
A knew better, but distracted, allowed
the whole lot, from
to seashore to in between to embrace
to so we are at war to the wind’s hooks
to a cloud of flies to we are each one
of us is we to finding the homeless
in statues of former friends to deliverance.
Let me guess a way to your brain: A-lite and
A-tragic.
Dear A, you put pen down for, or A, you forgo the rest.
I’ve sat through two and quiver into the third round.
My hand has sometimes been pointed out
an abusive thing, at times, unsteady.
Hunger, never defined.
Frequently applied in A.
Use these things before being so ordered. Find at least
one version of a predicament in A: whatever you want,
you will, like a literate insect, fabricate or radiate.
|
|
|