Find and share the perfect poems.
sight
impinges
on air
divvying it up
night sky
into a cup
black earth
(good omen)
full of mica
suspended overhead
it’s July
I’m full of joy
no steam heat
no cream teat
no dream meat
just walking around
watching the cup
dump its load
right on my head
cool black jelly
fulI of glints
hints
to remind me
of air
Poems by Kenward Elmslie are used by permission of The Estate of Kenward Elmslie.
Could be inching my way across moth turbulence
(wrong country? Honduras?—No! No! Nepal!)
due to a motor disturbance in some itinerary program computer
that failed to take into account my aversion to hot weather decay
seven men sat
Zircon Circle
very low in their awareness
couldn’t dent the little bus
uh, up, us
up, us, uh
women and chicks
maimed in the bedroom
Laundry so near the ocean bothered Frank.
The lack of medicine on the shelves
also confused his emotional stance.
A moth fluttered against his leg.
A gust of wind made his Pepsi keen
as its foam trickled down inside.