Wednesday, June 22, 2011

texts || John M. Bennett

fig song and crusted expla
nation of the sinking culo
culo lapidario y dunged with
hope and cluck a whi stled
of the meats contraptioned
in a dripless snake it’s w
hat my gunstone lathers

nubile nutcakes slabbered at
reception of the plunging c
lock clippers spread and l
isted like a froggy tongue
that sloping wall and count
your eyes a hairdo flopping
on the garden gate your face

jumpy shadow in your lock
er coffee inambition of the
smoke my earlobe with
your vacuum thought it’s
shaper neck was fuzzed
with mildew paused and
contemplated what you kn
a c k

bomber cauldron nape or
suitcase growling next the
furnace where my shiplace
cara lago riñoso floods the
crackers jerking in the sofa
way o grimly logfaced gr in
inside the mask or explan
at i on

flung my soap beside
your faucet coffee ci
cada uno de tus bichos
hablan o es puma inda
gosa no entiendes nada
a sombrante lumpy gas
deflating in the toilet

fist yr uvula flavor mud
and tonguage slaw is
stumped with loose or
tearing of the index \\
blot my throat with
bread and fry your l
unch lung’s a moat

lick the number fog you
ape contains a lake of
insulation and a crispy
foot the chainsaw greases
in the bay ≈ ≈ my brief
case falls its sopping
loaf of bread decays

erosive shadow on my
neck’s a dusty sand wich
spelled with c loud
crickets scrabble in my
sleeve you sleep and
write your teeth the
brush a liquid mir r o r

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