Tag Archives: teeth

Sonnet

what prize did you hope to hold in those smooth
hands for the plan sketched in cloud and unbuilt—
what melody might have flown forth if you
freed yourself from petty politics of
the boardroom and tested those scrawny wings—
but you sat with a job safe as socks and
a single number near the cold solstice

now in the damp the aches where you bend while
those black glacier teeth topple in tepid
tea you mumble to the cat it wasn’t
all bad these bloody feet could still march this
hand salute the lurking shadow who smiles
at the coughing cubicle dwellers soon
to be churned into cheap fertilizer

I.
His clothes so out of fashion you wonder
if the gentle breeze from the willow will
shatter him into an ant hill of teeth
and trinkets you can sell at the market

II.
Your fabled jewel that could
end the conflict but when
you tell the story drops
of blood fall from your hand

III.
Tended with a heat gentle as
breath until the crow bubbles up
soon you will understand her voice
as though you too were from the moon

I lift the pen but why my eyes slide down this poison face

but the sound of a bird I can’t
the glow of the sun
sinking what
else can I say

I waited too long and they’re already cleaning up so I grab some trash and throw it away they tell me to keep moving

when I slept in the forest those long years between research grants

salad days between immunity and editing

people always said I gave up too easily and mostly through song for some reason but that’s really none of my business you see I’m only paid to write these instruction manuals

leafing at monster cello sorry 
it’s these new plant-based teeth
 
and the weight of this uniform from lack of sasquatch in the spring
 
did you see it that time like a flash of silver at the corner of your eye but never mind it was nice to see you again and we really should get together and no that’s OK I have utensils at home