Mote, threshed loosed
chaff
Dry grass,
sodder
Stalks of grain, straw,
Stubble of
Naked husk
To settle forth
Vapors
Chaff
Lecherous she-things
seem to steam out
of walls, and seams
And even from books
Acting on treachery
Everywhere --
Even from her regard
In possession of she-brain
She-goat Elizabeth
Mourns the mist
‘Must we wake to mist?
Every morn?’
She asks Brother Charles
And Freddie Fodder
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell (circa 2003)
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment