This poem is entirely a work of fiction.
The language, both literal & figurative, portrayed in it
is the work of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual language,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
RE PRE SENT ING
Purple falls unripe from haunches
blacked against a redoubt.
A sea without chairs,
Each additional stroke, gouging new injuries
from old injuries,
of the netted
In two days two chickens laid two eggs,
forty Flying Fortresses
seventy miles from Dresden,
as upon one foggy winter night in 1972
a stewardess from 30,000 ft
over a pine forest in Bohemia.
This was later revealed to her in a dream.
(reading Sean Bonney’s Document)
Eye is non-refundable index of mind condition
contra membrane breach to inactual state
corrective. Terminate, as in: she sides with the enemy, always, your
|sentimental Schadenfreude. Few afford her authenticated
aura, or turn drano stigmata for a cooked
fix. Remember everything, the collective organ-donored
paralysis, but even their bones swallow the light.
An excessive vagueness of sky, a ridged scar
bisecting the low forehead, promises nothing but a secret occasion