John Pursch

Grateful For Twine

Well-wishers wax away into blind, volitional rapture, hovering with peanut cleats and torn outages, cleaving sundry droolers from whimsical flotation pyres. Spatulas imply frivolous hemp overtures, swinging water pucks at herd controllers, cavorting inside a single numismatic clot. Even so, the chatterbox next door canters softly due to infinite shelf life, fleeing the smocked and frozen declivities, hamming it up for auditory beakers. Prison dolts cringe at the trough, piling into vernal egg spittoons, sending slabbed scabbards skyward, hemming in the thirtieth fundamental yearning. If oompah buckets could sense triumphant rouge in cheeky quartertones, how specious might we deem our noumenal abutment blues, hexing daylight riot sneezes? One wheel wishes the udder into hailed tureens of slavering truth, tabling alimentary discus plowers till mentions meet the market’s hazy tire salon. Confluence fans crane their peat for noose parades, nattering about facial tenders, beaching reef tyrants in chiral battlements, somewhat heroically. Afterhours speculation warns off collective breakout spurts, segregating all sequestered horse pecans and fluid reasoners, stippling squalid logic tombs with perforated gemstone creeds. Clocked by outer emetics, a footfall’s emptied neutron shells loping arbiters with powdered candies, sleeping off eventual crusts. Winded chunks of flashing phosphates merge in laundered chaise blouse chews, amplified by nervous ships atop a storyline’s ossified conniption. Clues amount to helm motifs, osculating into lunar bleats, signifying canned stentorian plumes. Tooling choirs engrave a headless tonal estuary with beef, plunging to the quoit of a quadrangle’s ruled divisor, optional and bemused. Sweltering emblems of a cookery clown inter an igneous ratchet beneath toroidal burgers, anodizing a swollen gamete’s loose charade. Capital junks sail for musty herbivore lounges, bunt a planter’s erstwhile tetherball, and simmer over cool chestnut stew, grappling and grateful for twine.

Crustian Spoils

Oonly unter our hapasty,
undyet eetseems ezeef
antuntire henerashin
heplastered yeponda wheycider,
gobbletie dunda gizzard.

Aye, hearin acatmeow occasion,
ebenthru an exter you und
airplough ertwo, rotagraview;
oil foinundandy teal yegotsta
parse yer purse feracoinortrey.

Datswhen yuletide’ll heatya epsomcider
dacabinous bayside yecall yeread;
chest hop whee done spree onybloot.

Gad, dees inkis queet asoight tebayholt,
heft homely eyes cruden enter eet farye.

Neigh, bobbled epples’ll getcher hear wheat,
buttle nabob shale da proper plains meat;
outa touche er unter eine crustian spoils.

John Pursch lives in Tucson, Arizona. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in asbestos boots on beatnik feet, Blue & Yellow Dog, Breadcrumb Scabs, Calliope Nerve, Camel Saloon, Carcinogenic Poetry, Clockwise Cat, Counterexample Poetics, Eskimo Pie, experiential-experimental-literature, Four and Twenty, Indigo Rising Magazine, ken*again, Orion headless, Otoliths, Poetry Sz, Puffin Circus, quarter after, The Rainbow Rose, and vox poetica. You can follow his work at http://twitter.com/johnpursch.
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