Thursday, April 7, 2011

early revision, poem currently untitled

America's age-all        abundance!
           
            Come!
   
    Consider the
    leafy-rose milk
    dripping thru holes in Mary's breast
   
while she (the now of old) lays belly-up in her living room
    thumbing over her floor-length housecoat
    containing:            1 pack of Virginia Slims
                                  1 wad of cat hair
                                  1 lipstick, used

The sonic sons,
    (a lawyer, a bank robber)
    hold the child's dark ear
    ask her to speak gentle the moon or manger:

"What if we were to act through number?
Change will occur through the calculation of your oddity -
Speak us planets, woman. The country is conquered."

She                revised, domesticated,
    is unlovely
        wetting herself to the dust squall mirrored bird.

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