Arsenic Lobster poetry journal
Issue Nine
Winter 2005
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petite waste-fields of never her
Sean Kilpatrick

sing traffic lullabies

on city spine


(her shoes lactate

blue shadow)


and i am made

jealous by furniture


the striped shrug

of a couch

she once laid on


chairs mobbing

my dinner table


the six of us

frown for her


i measure each glass

(the volume

of her kiss)


obsequious dishes

her hands washed you


i lecture the floor

because it

always carried her

with so much love


too much love


she calls my

answering machine

every time she

has sex with him


i play them

going

at it

rabidly


they are

a big

favorite

here


About Sean Kilpatrick

| Home | Issue Nine | Contents | Contributors | 2005 Pushcart Nominees | Archive | Submission | About Us | Contact Us |