[…]


Anne Boyer

2 Poems

Oh Universe


Twittering Atlas triggered
his handgun.
Dark turned street

lamp, on and off
as light
insists.  The milksop

whined big
bang wasn’t loaded.

Before water

cycle, horny nudges,
             Explosions seeds!
                         Science love!

The suede impassive,
the good
lay, words grooving in

worn ruts,
             any less blasted less
                         splendid less divine?


January

First to filch sense,
first to fetch me arms

of pears.  First suckle
flittered
hummingbird.  First word

tattered air.  Scrap heap
songs, fat armed songs.

Slow me hearth.
I’ll fetch potatoes.

I’ll skin my sense.
Slow me heart.

Scrap her latch tatting fire,
her sentences humming

as air.  Damped hearth.
Scrap heap flittering.

I can’t sing.  First gone,
first cast off, first heart.

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