poems || Jeff Harrison

 
 
50,000,000 Wormswork Fans Can't Be Wrong
 
the tall-parody crook
tells me his dog is one
of the central zeroes

*

WW breaks quills,
seems however
fabled flesh really

*

red ready read
cut with a gurgle
a back pile of puddles
cut with a gurgle

tub meat untended

*

who said a nightmare's

a sly kind of counterwish

*

still they continue -
referred to as A,B, & C
mumbo jumbo types

*

fanning
the surface / of carcasses
he's a good sort

*

greasiest,
his best,
hurricane
caught its breath

*

he did,
Delicacy,
wonder the work
at the other

*

with shame
a last leave
to waylay him

*

daylight.
witches.

*

WORMSWORK'S
MALLARMÉ goes

zero, spume
verge on yet,
stamnos, lemmings' wiles
toast w/out crust for
1. one
2. reef
3. star
4. for who folds
         the sheet

*

fresh decks of
several basic
interests

*

Wormswork
snatches up the broom
can't be! QUIZ:
what was his name?

*

did you know his loot
listens to me when he's laughing?
his poor little worried loot!

*

his impression
washed with
dark olive suggestion

*

Wormswork in the world?
disgusting!

Wormswork in the world?
for them!