TI'm taking this 5 word prompt to mess with syntax and expectations, confound sense in a more experimental poem to let wash over you
@ 2nd mouse
let's let sweat unbead itself
a Sadie Hawkin's night
light social str
etched
skin the cats
capoeira elastic a spell we'll
dry-dock the small talk idea in favorite of
the pansied in saladified nutrient, retire
to pension in pillows
droppings as ice cream storm pelts and furs and furies satan's wood
vice red strike while I
bill it to the playboys
latecoming mice, no fairy crossing here
you pay our liens,
my! the cavity of
flowers to tooth are bitter
or better put, they say, astringent innit? the
social dry socket of jawing
after what is pulled out of you is
no wrench, trap, no,
to toss into
Tosh, that was the name of the young man
at the conference in 2003, the almost of his name
a prick pulled back into the sewing
box, whisker behind that corner
of the ear nuzzles up and falls to the right
takes the cheese. - so, any news
from your end?
- farts.
that sucks like a vampire in heat
and beneath a meringue
of tango skirt, ankle biters
go play in
a traffic of words that proceed
queefed from the lower lips of Aphrodite, into
non-anti-Heroine's Victorian lap, dance
of eyes, of course
retraction is
getting a polident grip
again nibble a toe
tap that stepped out of the whey –
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