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"slish" poems
TOUCH Crusty Frothy Scrape Sandy SEE Orange SMELL Nothing TASTE Chemicals Sharp HEAR slish
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Food Peom
tip tap you're tapping on the desk in rhythm to an unknown song snip snap you open up in my hands ready to be used slish slash you swing around leaving a nasty mark snip snap you close in my hands weird substance running down your side tip tap you beat on the desk waiting for the possible snip snap
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Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
dumb
At the corner of 12th & Main I am reminded of the night you couldn’t stand like a newborn deer with pelvis resting on broken glass bottles tightly curled around your lips resembling a girl in a cocktail dress the one whose neck you kissed your mouth a slot machine BAR BAR BAR hacking up cigarette butts and what’s left of your dignity At the corner of 12th & Main there is the scent of liquor stained into the pavement your skin cells made impressions on the pavement body rag dolled up like a cadaver on parade and I your Grand Marshall… I’m sorry for scuffing your boots At the corner of 12th & Main your psyche collided with concrete sunken inward to slish and slosh on a whiskey tango tidal wave or was it tequila foxtrot see now I’m drunk too On the corner of 12th & Main An attempt is made to fashion a gurney out of what’s left of wasted anatomy two fractured carcasses I am one of them your brother holding your feet marching like funk tossed in a blender, frapped Emily is there She offers you her couch and me a bottle of ***** and *********** In Emily’s apartment I took you to the bathroom your fragile husk shivering on the chipped linoleum dehydration and a smaller frame will do that to you promptly I got you some water and a blanket to no avail so I held you in my awkward limbs till your bones were silent
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
12th & Main
By one hand the knife made ready, In the other flips a fish; Suddenly, the two are steady In the rhythm of the slish. And worthy men and worthy craft Rebuke the jarring waves that lash Each man starboard, port and aft, With bitter wet and violent crash. And carcass after carcass tossed Lifeless to the ****** hold Shimmers, though the light is lost, And the dreary day grows cold. And vagrants in the trawler’s wake Bobbing back atop the swells Flutter up then swoop to take The sacrament of fish entrails. Here, wind and rain and haze dilute. Yellow, green, red, brown converge. And the gray is absolute, And time and mind and sense diverge. Moments roll as waves uncounted. Thoughts are scattered as debris On pebbles of perception rounded By the endless surge of sea. And rivers rise and passion flows Inward channeled by belief. Images drift by then go To certainty, or doubt so brief. And certain as the banks concede To the wash and swirl and spray So the tide and time recede Shaping yet another day.
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
The Bay at Yakutat