Thursday, April 24, 2014

npm: 04.24

04.24

Matador and dove--
our champion in bleeding gums,
his groupies growling
dripped in thorn,
sun in their eye
bright,
bruised wrists lifted like
purple starfish above
squinting chorus line.

Oaks were planted
where beast's rotted knees
buckled
horns down
dirt
white knuckled prayer
glint and slip
sheath to lung--

the women dig
all limbs in

lipstick
dirt
buttered heels--
feathers

No comments:

Post a Comment