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Tommy Carroll May 2015
The hour is slim!
This is the tangled time,
the time that heavy
with want
becomes the jaws
for open thighs.
Her tasty flesh renders
the cleft of wet truth.
Persephone can slake,
can shatter my ache,
when,
enthralled against
the serpent earth
with
legs knotted,
we
lay tangled in ancient ruin.

re-edit
words  Tommy Carroll
Tommy Carroll May 2015
This is the tangled time
The time that heavy with want
Becomes the jaw for open thighs.
My tasty flesh renders
The cleft for wet truth.
The hour is slim; my ache can shatter Persephone's Slake.
Enthralled against the serpent earth!
Legs knotted, lay tangled in ancient ruin.
Tommy Carroll May 2015
Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.

She looked up-
somebody was explaining
functionality,
She stared:
the new argument was
written on the white board
she returned to the letter-

another fold
another plane
pressing and creasing
opening
rereading
vertices missed,
words realigned.
Sentences brokered
with each new
configuration,
yet its meaning
reformed.

He- was disengaged
she- was misplaced.
Incongruent.
She rose
and left the room.
There would be
many such lessons.

Tommy Carroll
Tommy Carroll May 2015
Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.

She looked up-
somebody was explaining
functionality:
She stared
at the new argument
written on the white board
then returned to the letter-

the fold
another plane
pressing and creasing
vertices missing
corners peaking...

Sighing:

His orientation disengaged
they were now misplaced.
Incongruent
she rose
and left the room.
There would be
many such lessons.

Tommy Carroll
redrafted
Tommy Carroll May 2015
Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.

She looked up-
someone  was
explaining functionality
€‹She stared at
the new argument
€on the white board

then returned to the letter-
the fold
the plane
pressing and creasing
vertices meeting
corners peaking.

Sighing:

His orientation obvious,
they were now mismatched.
Incongruent
she rose
and left the room.
There would be many such
lessons.

Tommy Carroll
redrafted
Tommy Carroll May 2015
I lost my care-full
soul...
where?
there,
down by the sea...

She cast a smiling
glance...
where?
there,
looking back at me...

I'm sure
I left my soul...
where?
there,
down by the sea...

I stooped to pick
it up...
where?
there,
down by the sea...

I watched as
she walked away...
where?
there,
into the waiting sea...

I let it slip like
sand...
where?
between care-less
thoughts and fingers,
there?
yes- into the waiting sea...

words by Tommy Carroll
  May 2015 Tommy Carroll
Carl Sandburg
THIRTY-TWO Greeks are dipping their feet in a creek.
Sloshing their bare feet in a cool flow of clear water.
All one midsummer day ten hours the Greeks
        stand in leather shoes shoveling gravel.
Now they hold their toes and ankles
        to the drift of running water.
Then they go to the bunk cars
        and eat mulligan and prune sauce,
Smoke one or two pipefuls, look at the stars,
        tell ****** stories
About men and women they have known,
        countries they have seen,
Railroads they have built-
        and then the deep sleep of children.
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