That older poem that still rolls around the bottom of the drawer, making a crushed glasss sound.

Aphorisms for the Other Girls

 

So take, by the loose palms

these second hand

(had)

first class girls

and force the manic music of longing stop

for misery burdens all mercy

as mercy blisters it

back

to and fro

the palms

which cupped and rich

w/mercy and

w/misery

give, so that

we are gifted

and are

a gift

we give

to the other girls

end

 

Aphorism for the Other Girl

I cant remember

where I’ve seen

so long before

the hemn of your dresses

so long before

I had seen them

in their twirling offering ways

smother another man

But due now

to the hypnotism they infuse

I cannot recall

what I said I would do

if it were me you’d choose

as the next audience

to the next

undressing

you’ll throw me off

like a regret or accent

throw  me off

like the

other man.

 

Poem for the Other Girl

I threw

poetry stones

down the wells

of her eyes

open and wanton

then

waiting

to hear the bottom

drop

out

I threw my youth

in one great wine swoop

and a kiss deadly

a kiss made only

for cemeteries

and from the drunken mouth

which hatched it

I threw

and I never caught

or got

up

again

Then, waiting

with my dead poetry stones

neck in the water

I wished

for something else

to throw

down the wells

of her eyes.

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