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PK Wakefield
Poems
Aug 2015
Untitled
her mouth becomes smoke
says, " ."
(outside a bar;
somewhere there is a siren
mutely i remember my
hands and putting them
into my pockets)
curls and splits
up into quickly
nothing vapor
between 2 cherried
lips–dissipating.
(it is hard and quiet
from the alleyway
smoothness emerges
a cat )
into which bathes
the earth in neon
and the night yawns out
into starlight warm air
and
the thick smell of jasmine
and beer
Written by
PK Wakefield
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