|Arsenic Lobster poetry journal||
|ODILLATIONS No. 7.
How do I come across? anathema
pounded into spongy ground,
where all that mingles goes to die —
a hideous surfactant beguiles us.
You just keep making choices, drawing lines
drawing loins, drawing together
you grasp the cable that crosses the chasm.
That ooze keeps drawing us back. We who are not you,
a desperation, the cube root of cheddar because
it is a process of separating. I am it is said, a wheyfarer.
Emphatic — the ringing you hear throughout the forest.
Pound it in, grind it down, sound our oblique overtones,
meaning overheard, mining overburden.
How to measure
It was molten when it got there. Once a fracture, now a vein,
coursing through an earthen body, the magnum corpus. Anatomize:
Along the lines of. What divides us. At fault, my apology.
The incremental healing power of *smelted chicken fat*
cannot be accounted for in any other way. Intruded obsidian,
impacted denture, one bridge to cross. Intoning an antimatter anthem.
About Susan Charkes