If, An Accusation
You are too in love with big words, those large auditoriums of night, prepositional
and semicoloned with fire. There you go again with your gastric gesture, the
recitation of elements. Pb- Dh- Rt. Oh it derives, and it derives. I want to be as
pure as the line. To turn it over like a crystal capsule in my palm, consonant against
vowel, vowel against thigh.
I have never prayed before now. Praying is an en vogue way of raising Roma
tomatoes in Vineland. Let’s not see where this can go.
Just remember, I never gave you my word.
Author Discusses Poems