Thursday, July 5, 2012

poems || John M. Bennett


the u.gly l.unch .the
belted cro.wn .I .said re
.pile .sweat .nor f
inger .s.tay a.
.while ga.ming .ovu .la
.tion ate what .bur
.ned .the sky my wh
.eeling p.hone  .)pl.a
.ced yr t.rousers on
,my(  head b.lister the
sky’s ape ,hor.izonte s
.in de.dos o “Cha.n
.cho Div.ino” squ.irming
on  ))my((  p.late

...elbow dung...
-Walt Whitman


raw was ,tthe ttteetth soap ,insttt
anttt fulminesco tthe ,lasered face
crawls tthe ~braid~  )smoking
tttomb(  ))your bread dog((  a d
ying ttttrain  .eh sttteak f
older ,yr pills a con ,crette
shoulder tttired in a  )))mirror tthe
window ahead(((  ))))cloudy witth
yr hair((((  ttthunder an
a blink · =  “I burbled in my
shoe commencementtt” you
)))))were esblowttteric on tthe
fingered sky garganta que comido he.
- César Vallejo


hot meat chain ,the door shoe
welter or the water barking sh
adow where my eye beneath the
surf the other sees a hill of
muddy towns  ]la diosa paja
rera[  what a blutwurst in my
pocket meant the beakers
brimming from yr neck re
lease  ]]I slept[[  ]]]inside yr
drained fog[[[  ]]]]a pud
dle[[[[  ]]]]](())[[[[[
in my heat sandal )))flood an
mist :::::: (((

-D. Rown


olvido scurrilous ,rain town mis
lodos escritos fire scra
mbling in the shirts I
wore a touseled wall mu
ralla impendejada mas
seria ,ni fonética su
rly clawed por el cai
mán temporal the clou
dy thorn the toppled
wheezing of yr gla
ndular fork its sev
ered whistle its
green mask buried with
the sausage skins  .my
ground recall my gri
nning vomit in the corner

“...chingón el libro de hule.”
- Manuel Gutiérrez Nájera

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