this is the body &

these are the souls. the black burn

ish in the white room—these are t

he souls. crept on low tide shoals l

abile conjuring the morning tolls f

or cast iron fancy & mother may i

these are the souls. an april for da

ndy and dancing to fight; make lo

ve after lusting her elegant flight f

rom body to body we call it deligh

t. these are the souls; these are th

e souls. periphery darkens the me

aning you must a call for belongin

g in god you trust and now you go

singing for delicate sluts. the burn

ish is almost always somber. the c

ity staccato we carry in this in this

these are the souls & these are the


1 comment:

Loughton Daide said...

might i just say this is the best you've ever written to me.

also, better than a lot of shit you read from professional poets.