Unmasked It began with a sneezeclenched into a wheeze.Squeak-rolled by breezy hazmat suitclad orderlies to the ordered chaos of the vent. No, wait – it began with a date,obstinately masklessface; my smile always wins;not undotted eyes nor pate. I lied, I lie shunned in bright but unsunnedpincushioned, bruisedintubated half-life. Clueless, haunted, ragingthe red-capped famviews my…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Poetics: The charms of Samuel Greenberg — Requiem for an Aging Prima Donna
Requiem for an Aging Prima Donna “Encore!” they bleed Curtsied and ruffled, Once royal flesh, now Leotard callous kneed Greasy painted mirth, I bow my swanned head in kinned animate dread. Dwindled times chant Wrinkles and sags Wriggle and creep, Seep from concealed Lucid farrows, Creases that won’t be denied. Inside I weep. Curtains sweep,…
dVerse — quadrille #114– craven magnets
Brightshine fades to metallic gray.Cell memories leak, then shrinkto shadowed dank under rotting leaves. Winds howl with crystalled regret that haunts goosebumped skinfor its capricious heat-sucking sin. When Sol blasts fall’s curtains awayCells remember and celebrate,Dancing red-orange craven magnets. image: detail of “Sower with Setting Sun” by Vincent VanGogh, in Kröller-Müller Museum,…
dVerse — OLN 276 — Dotty Wotty
Dotty, November 2019 Caged, a curiosity for languid lookingPurring to deaf ears, playing to blind eyes,After years, she curled in the corner. Injected, tested, excised under gas,Waking and groggy under bright lightsAfter years, she shrank from human touch. Transferred to free-range and soft lightsSwirling tails and biting sleepsAfter years, she curled in highest cubby She…
dVerse — 3 little words — The Feeder
She feeds them in a quiet place Where willows droop; they know her face. Her pail with net, cracked corn, sharp spear; Unsensed the trap, fins swim sans fear. Death strung on lace. Her zinnias smile when she returns, Their hungry sway in copper urns, The roses arch with ruby grace In trellised dance; they…
dVerse — prosery 17 — Starbaby
We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time. – from Hummingbird, by D.H. Lawrence Gerald was born at the seventh hour of the seventh day of the seventh month in the year of the dragon. Unlike his six siblings with blue eyes, Gerald’s glittered like emeralds. He never cried…
dVerse — MTB — Google Ask Poem — I am art.
(i’m) not what you see;(i’m) bornof everything,everywhere —(your) way of survival. (i’m) fundamental;a god. (i’m) personal,relativelanguage,resistanceread aloud. (i’m a) verb, (to see)what you can get away with,(a) contagious yoga – dead dope. (i’m) just another form of screamingdead chords. (i’m) king,not always about pretty things. (i’m) pain,pointless without passion,stealingthe lie that tells the truth….
