Court Gestures [excerpt]
CHIP – CHIRP / WAXY / KIT / MEND – DEMEAN / WAG – TWANG / SAC – CHAPS – CHAMPS / FUN – FUNGUS / VOICE / TURN – RUINT / DOOR – ROOTED / OAT / BRAG – BARGE / RUE – QUEER – REQUEST / EEL – BELIE / JAIL / VOLE – LOVER / LOAD / FIN- NIFTY / GAZE
Every revolver is tied to a lover of something. A chirp chips in to the morning tableau. A sac would be nifty about right now with so much around us collecting. To be collected to be calm and—as the description goes. I queer the request and ask for a recitation of a poem that ends on wag. Satisfy me. Salsify, waxy beans, fungus, oats, but no eel please. No pleasing eel. My appetite is ruint by the twang that relocates me, carrying my taste space home. For once, we rooted for the champs. We jailed our gaze and allowed visitation from the object deemed most textured thus most fun for extended scoping—the eye coping a feel. The eye coping with all forbidden it, finding comfort in the vole in its burrowed state. A door belies an entry. Who is it you would have had barge in? Having been had, having to demean the brag, someone hangs meat over the swelling. A raw curtain drawn. Rue the chaps who failed to mend. A load of face is carted, and a query turns it. A smirk emerges like a shark fin. Circles the general mood. Pull a voice from the kit and swab my ear. I need to hear that now, whatever it is. As is often the case, a word's gone missing.
A process note: words and line counts for these poems were generated through the card game Royalty, in which players build and capture words until all the cards are exhausted. I recorded the results of games and used each of the words generated in each game in a poem; the poem consists of the same number of lines as the number of words generated in each game.
Copyright © 2012 by Kristi Maxwell. Used with permission of the author.