Saturday, September 14, 2013

poetry || John Pursch

Handball Nuts

Risible nouns pour 
surreptitious bobcats 
on frosty whippoorwills, 
trembling in precession haste. 

Gaveling cropped seedlings to Danish pasties, 
my flavored floodlight gooses lime and lavender 
from fleshy icicle crocks for hankerings 
of classroom tarts. 

Sweaty skylights trip a waffle detector, 
hopping isthmus pawns in beckoning chirp waders, 
cobbling nursery palms from gumshoe termination. 

Mooning wartime foreheads with shadow pox, 
goulash trepans acoustic stylus monks 
for breastwork poplar stilts, 
whittled to missing easel soup.

Icons bay at dehydrated gnomes, 
itching to dwell on supine Ferris wheels, 
mocking burritos till pundits hire 
the noontime Parisian chaff 
for dawdling lesion retrieval, 
craving fine sand. 

Cornish gams heed the motile six-shooter, 
clanging lips when ethereal handball nuts 
escape to knotty quintets. 

Prom Tomato Fins

Octal crusaders decimate pubescent eels 
with clocking maze roulette decay 
for timidly gawking middlemen, 
pulling on Dacron sweeteners. 

Dainty hitchhikers inflate brocaded lug nuts 
for beeping paroxysmal peccaries, 
schmooze till overdrawn, 
and leave belated breadbox boons 
with caterpillar quotients. 

Throwaway niceties phone depilatory sawbucks 
for escrow’s simian armful of arrowed fungoes, 
stapling keystone carp to lurid henchmen, 
browsing eyeteeth for serendipitous collisions. 

Minutes transpire inviolate, 
bluebirds vitiate oligarchical wingtip shrews, 
and sycophantic serenades convolve 
with whitewashed poise retraction, 
living laundered daylight’s 
speckled birdbath delay 
in ski lift octogenarian scrunch. 

Why would pawns eschew mice parolee stew 
instead of acrid fistulas when puffins stratify 
a penguin’s piebald crescent nametag? 
Baby skylights 
cross impassive tarts 
with prom tomato fins, 
twirling necrophiliacs in foveal disgrace, 
plowing inch by waving formulaic ostrich 
through serrated quicksand.

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