triumvirate
the fulsome
curse word
that deformed my tongue-
the teeth
in glaze
of remnant
soap-
and the shadow
my mother’s finger
left
inside my cheek
which I coaxed
into cigarette
and scrubbed with.
divine instance
regarded by a daylight raccoon
a man tries to think of nothing.
the raccoon’s eyeful of hunger
a far off religion
the dead of which
orphaned only
a few.
the bent pipe of its back
the gnomic antique
of a raided circus.
its claws
the common salvage
of row fire.
so fully raccoon
it might’ve been
earlier
what now
it would fight.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 2:03 AM UTC
triumvirate
the fulsome
curse word
that deformed my tongue-
the teeth
in glaze
of remnant
soap-
and the shadow
my mother’s finger
left
inside my cheek
which I coaxed
into cigarette
and scrubbed with.
divine instance
regarded by a daylight raccoon
a man tries to think of nothing.
the raccoon’s eyeful of hunger
a far off religion
the dead of which
orphaned only
a few.
the bent pipe of its back
the gnomic antique
of a raided circus.
its claws
the common salvage
of row fire.
so fully raccoon
it might’ve been
earlier
what now
it would fight.
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