Cold Mama
…land strays
Bowery dime
broke sill
—toss
crime cousin
buckled pink
Spalding ball
“rays’ tunneling analogous
clock terracing”;
cross-tread –
Fourth (Ave.) slog.
All Told — Jared Chipkin
Cold Mama
…land strays
Bowery dime
broke sill
—toss
crime cousin
buckled pink
Spalding ball
“rays’ tunneling analogous
clock terracing”;
cross-tread –
Fourth (Ave.) slog.
Wasn’t was not ceased,
abnegation of
doomed dirigible,
so I said
it asway,
to safety.
Your face, ash
accursed purse
of an abecedarian
jungle
pox. Slack,
sepia sonatas
set
pro rata,
the clapboard
war vibrations. Lavish
celebrant, split
aye’d shedding
martyr;
pretty, in love.
Ever puttered
hollering, corner
achievement for
a liminal instant.
I was implored, under
raft of shadow
looms no Cybelene,
the subtle verve
just then receivable.
Trace outlandish,
park arts tell
a tale of uncouth
foragers: seized out-
of-scheme; I obey
time portraits,
Reuben and brethren
at hand, kyphotic
harbors a fragrant
glare; this inflection
gets it good: pitched
aurality, light wonder.