Heather Brinkman – Four Poems

Heather Brinkman

Four Poems

v   v   v

Santo and Johnny
& all the boys


the pipe bottled penny cash
of addidago saltarello

and where our working hearts
have shamed us

they too
shall parturition,

and all things forgotten
will again affray

e  e  e

bel canto: onyx marcato
or all of universe for you

my whorehouse your heart
a burning violet

r  r  r

the cordon has won
its preventions of our
worn love, so may the ruga
iris saccharify and dissolve
to the tripartite of yarrow

the mast of men a cozenage
here, there Ovolo

now go and let me be that
on my own

m  m  m

Your Polish tits are far too much
for men and far too much for me
to rest within

I know the emasculate
sun will never again
rise on us with certitude,

“the glorious sunrise”
  will never come

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