Tuesday, April 05, 2016

jim leftwich, poem, from six months aint no sentence book 159

mauled bling
rotten
out of a pebble
that is a thought


a red slice
at night

it unbo sar
the fire
recr
o
i
flame fire
bean flame
fire beats


corridor eyes a druid spoon


suit wrapp has
concentric
oasis


drinb in an unspoiled glass

poet
beat
s fi
re a
t it
s ow
n ga
me

game
tame
time
lime
limb
limo
lino
wino
wind
mind
rind
rend
end
bend
bent
bunt
hunt
hut
but
cut
cat
hat
hate
ate
fate
fat
bat
at
an
and
wand
wind
win
gin
bin
bun
ban
can
cam
came
game