Friday, April 19, 2013

poems || John Pursch

Flugelhorn Retreat

Oysters fly in 
undercarriage mist 
without assailant clues, 
pondering crowded contrails 
from far above an empty tower, 
matched with semi-righteous fealty. 

Pachyderms collate 
smoothly processed termagents, 
icing homilies with air freshener,  
reading cluttered dials to save
the billowing oil can’s 
flugelhorn retreat.

Riverboat Yeast

Mobile knaves glimpse
Canterbury counter girls
through dimly shot camouflage,
abridged to glossy sandbars.

Pleasantries pound hooded intellects
with chewed tumescent quoits,
spacing into deft laughter.

Cresting below breeches,
wombs ensnare snail trainers
in paroxysms of riverboat yeast.

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