Lemme tell you bout that third eye

that one I been pickin at all this time

 

petals of breath

deliquesce in acetone

vertebrilliant viscereality

a shriven affectation

for my lioness 

 

a memory frayed from too much use

 

I am the gray city that crumbles

where we been trepanning for gold

I read the intestines

of disenfranchised mice over breakfast 

 

they tell us

démerdez-vous comme vous pouvez

it’s your own damn 

fault if you get 

mugged by a nihilist

 

vagrance nonsense 

system of collar bone smiles

system of katydid reflections

system of noseeums 

eating up my ass

Kent Weigle is an admirer of nature, especially of birds. He earned his MFA from the Rainier Writing Workshop, and is a contributing editor for Palaver out of the University of North Carolina at Wilmington's Graduate Liberal Studies program. He currently lives haphazardly in Boston.

©2018 HighShelfPress. 

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram