5 poems || John Pursch

How Barf Lacks

Indie trite hound codas 

swerve at fine dining sores,

canning given circumcision 

for bunk bed chill charades, 

steamily rending outer hunks 

at precessing polar heist climbs, 

axing tensile shrugs 

from librarian clocks.

How barf lacks 

one scanned glow 

while naked hens canoe, 

tiptoeing past vowels 

in constant string suction’s 

tree hearse alimony bib, 

graven over ad hoc stovepipe 

chatroom popularity feet.

Once Apron Etude

Amazing amanuensis artillery anxiously asserts every ogling headlong assumption, commandeering mulish low-rider precedents for consequential depravity’s newly flagellated temblor of tambourine pith and fairly baleen equivocation, slumbering too far below a hovering selector’s trained pathways.

Wordless swingers smile into steeply puckered thighs, plunging specious guitarist pylons in feebly entrusted aerial motives, whisked away to gurgling encirclement’s river of tirade neglect. Formaldehyde encapsulates a pinch of shaken salmon ignition, freshly opposed in atavistic chemistry soot, hounded into parochial dockyard proxy rebuttal by paltry pagination graphs.

Swaggering swiggers wig in caravan cacophony, meting out cylindrical colanders of derby-colored wingless strops, pinned to axon detritus. Shields splinter abutment yarns in millisecond perusal cruft, humbling even the pressed eventualities of sutured fisticuffs, playing drowned limelight tankards in sanctioned truncations of a deviled beeswax monogram’s ellipsoidal grunt.

Fiercely planted streetcar palaver mimics hocked pen pal eruption fees, soldering summations to leading louts with ribald stockyard sibling ankles embedded in fungal shams. Bowling steams in spastic mug shot hooliganism in time for trivial Mondays, evening out deranged chant dealers.

I hear entrusted file droughts peeling back Tyrolean time bomb suits, reviling flubbed cleats. Known once apron etude for kissing altruistic ballgame desecration hymns, thinking stevedores rush bravely out of ink to callous wavefront jetsam pilings, shaving bursars into chary sponge espousal.

Cue Ball Contrails

Lunge-ass thinking holed up in neither

tree lines nor candied clifftop dungarees,

plenty of denuded sophisticates hashing

weighty torsion feathers into useful

one-word semaphores of regional import,

sure to mooch off innate ivory shuckers.

Sleeveless cellophane

left wanting inner knucklers,

shaven from drowned town centaur felt,

smoothly fitted cue ball contrails spreading

warnings out to lighthouse pancake slip-up cranes.

Hefty weeds crowd stake aweigh,

shifting chains from slinky dough

in boggled cattle all the spay

to flossing mainspring settlers,

crossed at glandular trickle stops,

manned by shorn malts and feral jeans. 

Excess Eggs

Buried in whirling adages of lost pelagic slipstream soup, nougat-bearing loadies balance christened whimsy play toy towers on autumnal sidebar spherules, itching edgy tourniquets of porcine flagrancies with diplomatic trophy gutter magpies, bent on foul determinacy’s indisputable ratchet queen.

Training glossy buns on spouting hailstorm lamination jukes, umbral mentation indulges hourly chimney toasters by the handheld fulminator’s dryly fumbled raisin turkey griller, fondly offered in suffusion’s castoff iron segue fence.

Nodding withered stalwart huddles pay in corked diameters of apprehensive suds, gently tying off on bedpost roulette garrisons of foxtrot deli techno eulogies for procaine stumble fashion wheels in humble downy polka dirges.

Bodies give it ye hauled triage tyranny, facing duly spectacular bedroom sand ticks down to ribald dumpster chute survival, wedging wobbly water stew’s edition platter into fulsome martinet retreat, pulling on framed suffragettes with inches of deleterious relay peat.

Infusing temblors race to sandbag dolphin dumplings, cementing woozy portents of a flavored isthmus, pumped to contrail idiom’s hedge in dusty matrimony.

Selfsame wads avert eternal mixing posture’s coastal parturition, carping on wrung dailies in daughter drones of hooligan empties, shaking musty canes at hallowed whey assembly paws, cleaved to saw teeth in defection’s bluish greasepaint stitch.

Excess eggs row back from sloughed-off clover tiers at three o’clock’s slowly spined collusion spike, eyeing voluntary owls with conning dowry discotechnical lion crates, bowed to shyly camping oleo’s tinder shade of burbled onset.

Oblongata Moxie

 

Turgid opportunities insist

on mass communal caissons,

remanding allied salt replay

for altercation demons.

Paradise invades secluded

barter tombs with bottled caulk,

puddling into queasy cordite glue.

Keeping luck tea locked down low,

blending over fly nest hokum’s

wooden tabula gracias,

peaking hinges flame

pecan wader wheat

with hallway tendencies,

ugly groans descaling

shaven tees with

oblongata moxie.