Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Poem One
for Robin Reagler

I grew up lower middle class             and on account of this            
an infinite sinkhole of envy             and grunting want

I grew up profligate             something of a gambler            part one the gaining on you
and part two            is the ship cast loose             like the gull’s filthy feather

Oh my god, you’re a dream            I promised            myself one day

I grew up on the edge             of your electrified fence                        like a weed
your melodic             beddy-bye            harshes through doors            I loved/hated your mom

Once we were a suburban gang            and like that             like magnets
a            new classification            to resist                        to abandon

You had a fat mouth            morning cloud            and it kissed me
with wet  dew            which I drank like blood            for its magic            attributes

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