Litkicks Message Board Archive

The Chemist's Football/Abandoned Marsupial And Jack London's Glove

Posted to Poetry

...and so I with raccoon eye think on the voluminous mass of prison café mr. blank would happily heal with head in hand of marsupial sky/ chemist in a carnivorous gaze & poorly paid braced for dissolution of umbrella or turtle beak unable to speak points to cow coiled on arctic soil/ fire truck in motorcycle robe would proudly probe pig empire with tire of tangerine would retire to woods with ex-marine in hood of good hope would be understood that soap is skunk is junk is drunk for rope to hang to bang the boom to bloom the zoom of rat to splat the bat of hat to chew the few of cue ball zoo or pool hall pew/ prison box with locks of jim foxs hair could not bare to stare at skull of gull tied to ships hip or knit songs of broke sculptor of airplane wiggle would not jiggle for the squiggle of a pen or egg of hen would not skank for the crank of water tank or sing for the song of swan...

& on the other side of the bay martha walks her poodle.