Sandra Simonds/The Tar Pit Diatoms/2


Nice to meet you, Mirabelle Marigold
—and a queasy guffaw to you too
forever. do this:: vine three round
the dire moon like crocheting
mossy speech pollutants
“all delight has gone”
considering
ghost veins
sip-









                              on
                              bloods through
                              Tom’s heart in
                              aortic drums
                              or figure-it-out
                              Oscillation. say no
                              to Sara, Montana, her
                              pageant of huckleberries or
                              he’ll get a tattoo of a funhouse
                              mirror reflecting a small silverfish


 
 
 
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