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