January 31, 2008

Poem in imitation of Roger Finch

It is in the dark that I find the difference

between myself, the green ink user, biro penner,

and you, who blues out thoughts in fountains, scored wet

between our thighs and scrawled on our hot backs.

Nibbed up into us the words, and their oppositions,

inter-loop: some dry and some bleeding out;

Looped sighs over the kaggy handed words.

Looped sighs bind our opposing minds

into composing flesh and sweat. In the dark

our difference condenses, smudged under the finger

tips and the mouth, and the cry words and the language

of a sobbing groin. It is in the moment, repeated, that

our sentences find one another, and we are the same

writer, with different diction. Later I scratch out your

scent, verdant, in words such as melting snow,

silver polish and moss. And the sound is mine.

- No comments Not publicly viewable

Add a comment

You are not allowed to comment on this entry as it has restricted commenting permissions.

January 2008

Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa Su
Dec |  Today  | Feb
   1 2 3 4 5 6
7 8 9 10 11 12 13
14 15 16 17 18 19 20
21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31         

Search this blog


Most recent comments

  • Charlie! you filthy filthy girl! Still, all this is very amazing. well done :) didn't see you over e… by Adam on this entry
  • Much as I like the ryhthm, I think perhaps it would work better with breif gasps of chaos breaking o… by on this entry
  • Devon, and theres nothing out there but a hurricane….I agree that the last line does 'let go' and … by charlie jones on this entry
  • Hey, Charles. In the best 'you–comment–on–my–poem–I'll–comment–on–yours' tradition, I noticed you'd … by on this entry
  • Really loved the last four lines; I thought they built fantastically. Was the line–break difference … by on this entry

Blog archive

Not signed in
Sign in

Powered by BlogBuilder