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The Marine Layer

Clouds engulf the L.A. basin

Layered mold in the

tubberware

lunchbox

I left home.

Except the spores

are tufts of a woman's white hair

Clumped together in the shower drain

blocking the grates.

 

You cannot shoot up enough

silicon to fill

the wrinkles of a body

hollowed

You'd have to start pulling marrow

from the bone.

 

These craters of the basin--

****** dry to burn.

hollowed curves a body barren,

tapped out, laid fallow.

Shrouded...

 

White noise

White film

White foam.

 

She, with her fingers

in every swimming pool

 

She, lounging behind the smokescreen

 

She, big curvaceous mound

smoldering rock of an old woman

 

She, who can **** it in and hold it in

the atmosphere

She, lasso-ing lady with wild tendril hair

She can't always keep from billowing out

hot air.

Soon enough she'll catch a sore throat.

Soon enough she'll taste the concrete waterways.

Soon enough, she, ittle too long.

 

The tale of Hydra is a tale of women deflated.

This lick of fire did not blanket the city but set it ablaze.

She swallowed the heat ****** back the fire

bled and wept Armageddon-red sunsets.  

 

White Noise

White Film

White Foam

 

She, a flat, airless

mortar without bricks

tooth-picked clean.

only marrow left of bone.

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Written by
sean
American
Published
May 24, 2012
Lines·Words
47·208
Permission

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