As/Is

9.13.2005

night's
mute cone
palps nasality into

melody's lone string
stalked to
styro

caught
mid-angst
as if and

only if wheels
slowed themselves
shut

therefore
time of
day work week

"say something don't
leave me
here"

doing
all the
talking as usual

I would rather
hear from
you

divestiture
spawns moaning
on account of

plenitude's glutting the
whole pig
thistle

walled
with thorns
and bracken and

and and and
issues coming
fast

toward
our fearing
very hearts stunned

by verb to
be taken
verbatim

"you
mean the
world to me"

trinkets like that
in words
given

over
to words
making themselves heard

posted by Sheila Murphy on Tuesday, September 13, 2005

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What a great take on defenses, no?
And if not, I like thinking I like your take on defense systems even if I'm crazy and there's none to be found in this poem.

# posted by  Common Sense on 9:07 AM

 

Jordan, I thank you. You're reading something really apt here, and I appreciate the careful thought you bring to this!

# posted by  Sheila Murphy on 9:28 AM

 

ah but Monsieur bush ou est il?

# posted by  Crescentsi on 10:18 AM

 

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