This poem is far from finished. I put it up so my poet friends can read it and give me critique. Please feel free to help me with it - I know it needs it!
for D.
whom I have not met.
At midnight's rise rapt of fleece we eased into talk of:
Phantoms
Devils' histories
Unions deceased
Schools balls bats
Brooks
A child's fall a spell
Of a book
Then she surfaced.
Cemented with contractor's semen.
I see her scar on you you said
Etched reflective in my tarnish
I can feel her brutal assail you said
Echoed in my wanton rhythms
I can smell your abject defilement
Lifted in her abiding vapors
But you were hungry
And putrid meat is yet meat
The purple decay cling-wrap protected
(stanza incomplete)
Then I succumbed.
Husked with clumsy seduction.
Call and response of text and image.
And after the strip-search laid me vacated
You made haste to the digital dump we'd ditched together.
Amid the addicts and desperate anglers
You search for an angel
Inviolate
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