Pop Quiz:Dora Malech
Twist of lime or twisted arm? Lent hand or footsy? All the crossword puzzle nouns can’t help me now— the castle and the thistle, the roan, the vireo and jib. Hello pursed door-to-door lip service, high horse sense. The townsfolk squawk foxy, wave the big flag as I offer my treaty, treatise titled Heart as Blank Check. If tit, then tat. File under: beeswax, none of your. Organ dolor means I’d release this sad skin. Tactile error means wrong cheek to cheek. I’m wetting my unicorn suit. Can’t blame this mess on the longwinded weather, cyst or stye or whiskey dick. Throat closed for repairs, I gag a bit, allergic to the peanut gallery: It’s your fucking heart, man. I pledge a lesion, draw a spine in the sand.
Dora Malech Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2021, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|