Arsenic Lobster poetry journal
Issue Seventeen
Summer 2008
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Anthologies
Ray Succre

The reel and hook bust mud, who suffers history.
That I may cast and shoot fish from the specters,
kings from under the hills, is Grendel learning,
is a taste of frost.

The books are opened, anthologies proper,
and sauce is used at a lectern to romp the reading
palate onto record.

That I am with certain smarts is smartly a dove
to the foxtooth, for I now see myself between
covers, in sauces.

These hooks in my bird chitters recite
when the squawking cocks back,
and the horror peaks into me, a fact
and dull bric-a-brac, flailing my doll form
in a hungry hug.

The reel and hook have pulled me in
where I once drew my sight and meal.

About Ray Succre

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