I ate you quickly. Did not stop to feel your cold
slip and bite. The white stone from inside
your head is shivering in my pocket. I place it
under my tongue to speak the slimy syllables
of a language you thought forgotten. The tinny
music of bone. Now your kind will hear me coming.
To the dark eel who slept in my bed
Filed under poetry
The dark, angel-tailed eel Swims from World Heritage Area To Lettuce Farm His roof the tarmac culvert On the El Arish-Mission Beach Road. Hopefully, the road repair gang won’t eat him.
I hope so too Laurie! Will be sending off the SpeedPoets Zine this week, so keep an eye out on the letterbox, G
oh dang… this gave me shivers graham..
(i think) that is what i am after Claudia. Thanks as always for dropping by, G