Today's poem is by Mark Bibbins
Sweetlips and Spangled Emperors
We lost the change that looking
makes: less juice in the sluice,
more tear in the where. Severed
boy-twin sits up, keeps going, offers
a sacrifice to news crews
the dirt, the down, the dormant star.
We carved an elegy into a chunk
of soap, spelled another
with bodies on a hillside
until the usual twits came to warm
a hole in our iced-up lake, leaving
us hobbled and cheated of tongue,
where pain yet peaks under orchidy rain.
Quelles jolies, parentheseswe slow,
go slack as the water within.
Copyright © 2009 Mark Bibbins All rights reserved
from The Dance of No Hard Feelings
Copper Canyon Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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