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Martin Narrod Apr 2014
Not an amulet, an off white vertebrae; bone.
Brass wire, a loop at one end.
It bends as to make sure this will fit.

A gauge that measures mesmerization,
And we both must get along, but
Not because we're not tough enough:
Most of us aren't soft right yet.

So many stiffs, folly after folly.
The whole carful of loose cadavers,
Dangling, their feet hang with wet snow
And carnage,

Not even musk deer pop up,
They've all gone. Roosting in a parabol,
With X's sprayed to their groins.
Burning pop couples

Doing it like laboratory mice. Capybaras
Hiss, my own burnt blood is also
Flocculating.

Turn the cup upside down and
See the fire's balmy lachrymal opaque
Moss while it does not drip.

This is the story of man you asked me about;
Devoid of a muzzle, fur onto his chest; coarse
Hair in a garland.

It is the God of a tool that buzzes into the night.
A plateau for this most sensible study.
We feel another coming.

And when you awoke, your larval tongue
My eye mush, a song of verse and melancholy.
This half list of greatness, a tally we both wish to see.
Lily Audra Oct 2022
Swaying,
Heat pressing into my skin,
The same winged creature circling my face and then landing on the very tip of my nose,
Air thick like a milkshake.
When the rain comes,
Landing with a thud,
Like a bag of sand dropping from the roof of a house,
The animals can breathe,
I can breathe,
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh,
Even the crickets let out a sigh,
Pounding like a drum,
Pounding like the same dream every ******* night,
The capybaras and wooly monkeys with their hunched shoulders and squinting eyes,
Let the branches and leaves heave around them,
Verdant,
And flashing,
A globe of bubblegum,
The rain always comes.
they're superb swimmers
the largest living rodents
the capybaras
struggle with the words,

tear wrappers back to reveal

the chewy pink, or bitter.  bitter

enought to split your head, the

packing says.



all gets too sickly, too sad,

when small boy agrees

it is good to hear  birds sing.



sweetly he tells me there are other capybaras

in the capybara house.

this is quite relaxing.



sbm.
struggle with the words,

tear wrappers back to reveal

the chewy pink, or bitter.  bitter

enought to split your head, the

packing says.



all gets too sickly, too sad,

when small boy agrees

it is good to hear  birds sing.



sweetly he tells me there are other capybaras

in the capybara house.

this is quite relaxing.



sbm.

— The End —