Monday, April 11, 2011


Whore o’ the Sea

I’m just trying on
the shape of it. Or
what’s that word

I’m doing, taking
tooth for lips, re-
describing purple,

whirring sticker-
shock into narrative?
Nothing in a week

and a half of sour
until   “Morning?” (he
writes).   “Seems to me

you’re a guy likes to
breathe”   (hot / stone).
“I’d do more if I were

you”   (each / stab).   His
next exit makes outer
space a piece of cake.