Poem
stamen I implore, ache my suitcase, "What'd I say?" I he snagged the flaucet
gum beading soupy, my flank-sought tie flank laky slurping cast the row lake
slup: dang throat I hosed, I lungish, my held the belt he cusp, I came, steady
dream nosed my boat sang all ha name, my body's meat, less my feets' strewn
page, my crap pond hushed, ah your war's gasp's mine, burning umbrels crossed I
the smoke released inside, I gain relieving, your belly's fish a-floppin' I,
yes my pee's room, for all I saw dust was, so I layed those bugs, taped my
tail, yes my mail's laid, in my pockets I felt the leaking, before I came you
scribbled here and dribbled after, bird sluffs down twitched head little dusty
bugs press against the glitter-wall where I thought I drink but stared: like
my dream's sinking to the astral mothers, I need to breathe I stared, my boat's
in you or lip yclept, fallows was I cloned to you surpation spread me, "glance
on me" I'm Dawn and Socks, orange balls throbbing in smoke, I was sighed with,
breathed outside the lens or faced my fairly hair of lifting, oh "I renewed"
and, I ask myself, Will I ever be? I'm crouched beneath the grape arbor
watching a refrigerator burn in the yard, My tone ignited "off sleep" or face,
how'd I hoping my eyes under that faltered lust, wristed moon you masticate my
calendar's crumpled ball, your ash on chair I floated pages and, I fingered
noise and night, your pleasant foam improvement rains "my belly" flags, place
your nets across my belly for the stains removes, Oh how-de-I o'er 'er raring
thighs flailing a thrust -- fire I could claim but window, spoonish dribble you
I train inhales, "Spit it out" I urge, thighs flowing past my head desired
crash, claims of roofs fulfilled I, my teeth in you, 's my tongue down there,
ears showing like the sores I kept, I was handing off, ah's my numb throat's so
alter-trashed, stay shivers off but "I" was waiting for you key dandled limply
scans the, folded to me's, breathing sheety I was able could you bare your
flanges I would spread my hands like sand maps breeching stream the lurking
hair, rasping my hand on my teeth, valleys starve the endings rear I knew, I,
(I), brew your spatters me, "No slob or hat was" he nor I, combination of the
wire-sink foamy turds I phoned your scattered leavings, Oh my labile
pants-matters, I see a thick black word pushing out its mouth, wrong division
of my plated soup, you and I, painspill screen slippers past my cheek slag
sinkers tune of off clangers roost your rampart breathing through compression
pills in loops: ("I"), ("oh my"), where muddy forks where lovely clumps beside
my, clamps and cheeks my "wristful glance before your gate" gate?
--Bob BrueckL
all phrases from John M. Bennett poems
