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Hernandez Berlinn
Poems
Jun 2017
It's called bergamot
Quake beneath my soft tissue,
tectonic passes at the good china
warm like stray memories
gargled then regretted
You're the parade,
disfigured by June wafting off the asphalt,
luxury on four wheels,
costumed in roses
but weβre not palace,
not opera,
not cathedral
at your inscrutable
command like milled limestone and
personal mythologies
Written by
Hernandez Berlinn
New Mexico
(New Mexico)
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214
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and
Shanath
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