Took you fishing at my daddy's farm pond You said my whistling scared fish away But we both knew it was our reflections
Sitting in the bathtub counting my woes Stuck in the ice/ water turned to snow Chain smoked Camel cigarettes until thawed
'Souvenirs' should have said 'broken colors', 'faded toys' My toys were all hand-me-downs and my little brother broke my crayons. you changed the words; blamed my dyslexia but maybe that was your song anyway and maybe I really am dyslexic
home-stretched double fences/ awkward straddle rope-walking strut; proverbial plaiting expects paddock display under saddle cliched laurels-o-roses awaiting calculating captivating gaiting widespread blaze markings; barn-sour redhead dragon breath whispers, death pant pulsating endurance saddle stitched with silver thread weighted bedspread awaits at her farmstead farrier finesse: change my break-over race through veins/ head like a thoroughbred park Struggle Bus in a field of red clover dwelt. Felt conformation. Comprehending. ...
drabber area/ dull hysteria sapling of something special uprooted mix melancholy with malaria fresh pool of intense insight polluted two suitors so ideally suited intermingling; our lives interlaced momentary lapse of reason, (muted) sweet-worded-sonnets taste of toxic waste paced myself improperly, now disgraced followed head instead of heart, (both hollowed) poetic correspondence erased unspoken words: should never have swallowed so ready to rev, her hand on my crank this magnificent drawer drew a blank
artha and author: all is vanity sanity/ punctuation elation exclamation point/ devi devotion quotation marked "madaandha", (blind from lust) thrust into parenthesised afterthought overwrought by sensational kama drama beyond dangling ellipses eclipses of shadowy nayika
sharp phrases, odd clauses, pregnant pauses
subliminal sanskrit semicolons: 2 words rub together, (often oozing)
Oxford comma Kama Sutra sentence: empty spaces after a period
thread-bare tapestry, missing a grommet use to be something wonderful, splendid tear-stained and splattered in writer's vomit unraveling ends are now unended hung-out-to-dry, but only cross-winded poetic piece, (once belonged to a bard)
perhaps past the point of being mended
with handwoven pattern of avant-garde scarred, marred, too many faults to disregard hanging rod sways and cracks in partial breech ready to be charred/ destined for graveyard overly beaten and smelling of bleach leeched of all color, overly-sunlit ...
pantry packed with ingredients wilder shelves stocked with tin cans missing their label prefer my peppers and salsa milder shocking intestinal jumper cable reflux recurring, taste buds disable her spicerack ingredients: overused
was raised to be stable at the table
my esophogus smoking, tonsils bruised overly sauced, jalepeno infused her table is set with ware informal (asked to leave table, but was not excused) our meals border on the paranormal chewing, methodic, digesting, steady asks, "Is it time for dessert...