John M. Bennett




word coff in stance of head
yr thought thump left a glue
restained yr lip restraint nails
rusting in dirt thin fog crawls

downhill a gate congestion
glare yr steam congeals a
foot trembles stuck in wire
across the stream a bus

waits a laundered dog watch
es 3 muddy tires it's yr
explanation for the box con

dition of yr dictionary tumor
jaw f  lappy at a gritty wind
hacks the sherds of names

Box of Forks ¡Bramapalabrerías arenófagas masticantes! - Juan Ángel Italiano what off went a wait jaw jeta de gusanitos con 5 sentidos sentimoscales ,voca ablos sordos tines sin time sin la huesuda chewed yr faceoff .lo que brilla y retuerce por mi boquita sang rante de consonantes ¡grapas oxidadas oximorónicas! es y fué lo que era pasado mañana snake with heads on each end each eats dirt each shits air sore eros rides the forking wavecrash drowkcab hhhhhhhshshshshshshs Illusion of Space Sonnet is space not form's fone wind es “mur allá bapalabrbrpbras de una pas sion de rocanosa” - Araceli Zúñiga I slop coffed sin fin sin prin cipio la forma espectral un espejo ilusorio en el baño de las 5 AM que son las 5 PM del mismísimo instante ¡Quanto iluminar no existe! Quanta tor menta en la ausencia del aire como si el aire se quemara in the shapeless shape of mistonguederst anding ,forma de ventosa la séver :trueno sordo del espacio atestado del vacío imposible wind sleep where yr shot comb swallows you yr wind's sleep A B C no comestible es basement rain o poventosa exdeletreada arenada ,todo mundo es malfabestial y salfabestido es la lluvia des peinada de tu cara greasy with fumbled recuerdos reculeados redesarchivados all that shit dumped burning on a driveway with a neck and gun .yr food returns is dream clock sloshes on the concrete it's the snore you crumpled in yr chest foregetting -After Jim Leftwich's poems of Dec. 20, 2020 creafter center forebethought tooth ferment structured egg screen or onion ham mer ghost culture foams in side a cookbook fork & flag solvent foregunned virus dog's “panic milk” break the green bolus boiled in yr breath dance's broken corpse foreskinned during helix river turning in a cheese or fist will shit yr shoes ,foregotten in a melting chair cutisería After Iván Argüelles' “Circe's Toys” noisy entrails pustería del aire ahumado sin pluma sin venado skin ablaze under the sur face sharpened knees sin huesos heaped with lingorama precision nonsense urned her blackened voice beneath ball istic bleachers manifest pestiny smashes her teeth's path Circe longing for the rope longing for the cut husk of morning re verses vowels surruonds my labored inch rubbed raw with glass and asbestos is was “hand searching...for the invisible script of memory” - Iván Argüelles tuesday after tuesday after tuesday after thursday after tuesday after thursday after thursday after thursday yr suitcase's melted clam an elote buried in a sweating street I ,you ,trembled in the invisible mist of poetry was an acid bath or windy alkaline ,deventive shoulder's sharp pain an obsidian watch twists in yr joint lithic lapse old fool slobbering at yrmy mud pillow cama de fango y caroña podrida :hiciste , já, de tripas teléfono amordazado con intextinos guts n' gluts might say – slabs of sky tilt down ,spill the worn gravel of yr lingual river ...or is here there is there here is... ...when a was is is a was when...

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