Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Ghost Poem

Oh no, she’s a Gasper (mouth hung Open she’s seen a Ghost)

très noir still breathing in spiritus

vessel be filled un réceptacle (un récepteur?)

passive but lucid but passive

how frightening! c’mon, baby, have no fear

cause Baby, the Ghost is near and it’ll getcha getcha getcha

one way or the other, get got hot possession, posturing revelation

strummed like a fiddle and played like the Magician you know you are not

idle but passive, passed over no blood on your frame

fat on your lips Death, come quick I have flowers for You, my Cups are stacked in 7’s and 8’s there’s a motion, it’s leaving time wilting staticky

inside the car hot foggy bent over neck craned or laid out before

on the table un cadavre exquis life brought to

mouth to

in the beginning the Verb breathe resuscitated vivant respire

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