Old Residence Roe (redux)

Venn diagrammer,

Put-down fleshpot-bitten particulars, play me the warped Uriah bluffs. Shadow and hiss.

Triumph pad,

Draw me a Cossack and hatchway bursary embryos in and out on sternum ridges. Bring me the bluffs.

White taboo clown,

Password me the caviar spotlight of that old residence roe. Handbill and plumb,

Sinner ‘74 brazier,

Bring a Peckinpah rough cut, a splatter and blush. Bring me, please, the headlamp of A. Garcia. That mud don’t play until ten after four.

Mud don’t play.

Mud don’t.

What I’m Reading:

The sound of quiet. The sky
indigo, steeping
deeper from the top, like tea.
In the absence
of anything else, my own
breathing became obscene.

— Leila Chatti / “I Went Out to Hear”