Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii RomÔnesti - Romanian Poetry



Texts by the same author

Translations of this text

 Members comments

print e-mail
Views: 2234 .

cross`cutting et sequentia
poetry [ ]
with large glossy venturi tubes

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [cory ]

2004-09-03  |     | 

turning aside I twist the black paper margins
surrounded by a dyspepsic pale-green membrane
ungular jackdaws dive in my mouth
like guppies feeding my circuits
divisible by two gutta-percha hollows
they shift a map in ityphallic shaped curve
climb the stairs... one-two-three!
do you feel the heat?
enclosed lands pierce acutely lambrequins of folded skin
sipping my west with large glossy venturi tubes
measuring my east in blood waves
try not to examine the oxygen supply!
ups and downs split thunders on a plate of rivers
dash deep waters under your forefinger
until the tongue of dust widens more shelters for ugly bugs
and then you squeeze the remains of bubbles
of that greasy gum out of their wrinkles in a blissful
rage against the machine

he has been following you since you were a dumb child
crying mother all the time
then one poor widow came and put all these on a quadrain

his eyes bulge with abundance
mild looks cut the viscous flow of words
exposing air letters in geometric shields
going round my whole body
as in a book of adventures walking my blood
to the pacific ocean and back and the wind blesses my boat
on a bluish string. she asks waters about it.
waxed shivers enwrap the evening in a croquet of grimaces
sunset hated me too
accordingly she pinches the string
as if she scratched a vitrail imprint with her nails

my guard reads my last name on a plaque sailing south
thinking about how much I hated my brother who used to cut
my thai-doll's hair like strips of organza on a spring dress
you see, he wears my necklace of shells
alluvial matter garments
his carousel with mine, at high pressure
for another snow-fall to come.

.  |

poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!