Monday, June 27, 2011

poems || John M. Bennett

shut the slime locker
crate neck bubo )п(
corn legging in the
crier’s s eat the
)_flat_thou_ght_( burn
the lock s .aw John
counts h is single shirt

stubs an forks lig
ht beak er deck
shudders in the
grin .fog gras
,mute do or ,said
the s p r e a d legs
crawl ing in the
s u n

the rat lunch bawls my
clot nap pizzles where he
gagged his watch a joh
nny marching toward the
squeal your plunger out
O knobby lung an fold
ed carrots in your leg

whistled shirt o jump
y shorts he ,never g
roped but groped I
bet a neck you reft be
hind see ping inna
bed his drooled butt
ons ticking on the
s hee t

fog john cuddled what
yr suit thought drinky
loop spits behind the
fridge sardines and
crackers glinting in th e
hair so you could ha t
him d rink his ≈ worm

mumbly clue or jot o
sumwich crumbling in
his briefcase paused to
crack // off the side
walk’s gristle gleaming
in the clumpy sun you
dogged him thru the
ho S es

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