Poem of the Rotten Book
| fish of the rotten book
white an eye over to them old pulled waves balled up, they are, thru scuzzy depths / two dolls big bed Sunday a nailing fist-first swiveled sweat imagination, still mine habits art driftwood-draped emptied head went away like a Venusian waving gaily out the spaceship window goodbye, pearly goodbye, old ghost father, without you the sun's going spiders these spiders ride with their hearts stuck out like thumbs, like tongues their hearts stuck out Poe them to me heartless as rotten books slipping over them old pulled waves >>>Metamorphosis by Dan Spielman Back to Contents |
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