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It was easy enough to find us. The morning spun its web of darkness shining to the sea. The words and daze were there for all to seep. To seek. For sleek to see. To sleep perchance to reason. Named, paraded, numbered, works of the arts must be, to be a knot, mutual aid or not at all.
Left of lecithin, thinly pacific, fiction runs in the arteries, the familiar tiles and trials, a family of artists, part artillery and part tandem. Familiar trellis, a lattice for the letters. By or even as a mystical pressure in the gut, the tongue gets carried away by the weft and waft of chewing, the chosen chewed, the raw bird has flown, the cooked fowl comes home to rust. Their expectations are in the way of my expectorations. Lung if the less thin leaf. Lift, then bias the lungs with torrid errata. Mythic array away in the arena of pesto pectin the apnea of a stolen gusto. Cleft ruins antenna arribada plectrum pectoral leaf leaf moral wreckage strumming an electric drum. Crumb trick on the wing. Wing thick & humming vectorial prunes. Runes roan rinds moaning hands. Plans groan behind the dunes. Do the dunce hat dance. Flattened fifths in flattered trance. Entrance, perused by a bear. This is our next chance. To beat an ear and bear an egg. To bed to bid to bode too bud for the egg. Are two birds in the egg worth one tree in the hand? Hand me down my walking shoes it’s dawning on me now.
Can you think two thoughts at once? Yes, you can.Two thoughts in the same place at the same time.
Poems do not obey the laws of physics.
That’s why I am a poet and not a politician.
Politicians are not paid to know the same things that I am not paid to know.
Rain fills on the wind seal. The sign on the fence says Beware of Dog wolf wolf but I know, they don’t have a dog, he died last year, woof hoof in mouth, foot on the mouse, disease. Wind full on the wind sock holy sock dirty sock puppet sick of it all day long, working like a dog, the long and short of it: I quit. It sure is quiet out there. Long and out, with a mouthful of dirty wind. Seasoned with a dream.
Rain on wolf a mouth
Wind dirty long and out
Fills the fence with wolf dye.
Finds enough of us ever since.
Fins are just a hint.
23 feet of famine
Drowning in a drought.
Babies born with gills
Sucking circles in the sand.
Moist as a catfish in cultural ether. Either you are fork the fish, or you are again, a loss and a gain, the fish. At first, hoist the cat out of the bag, if at first you don’t succeed, either you are or you are not. It is raining wind.
It is raiding wine and fishforks. I am thirst, barely herein, counting down the whys. Why was there ash, the ash of the few, on the glue? Anew and adieu. Rain amounts to a fistful, a fish full, of air, sail away on the ship of foods, on the breaded snake of fools. First there was a mountain then there was no fountain then thin there, wash their, hair, the hairy mountain, blue skies behind their eyes in the rain. Crying a river of ears. Thunderstorm Pasquotank flash flooding remnants of hurricane Debby. Rebel with snout and claws, doubt and laws of psychics, canopy blurry plants remember, buried in a mime. The hewn bone, the honed burn, trouble nibbles on the dime. I’d rather sleep in a hollow log.
They don’t even half a dog. Seven halves of a dog.
August 2024
North Carolina
slowforward.net/2024/08/11/jim…
jim leftwich — seven halves of a dog
______________seven halves of a dog cific partia specific pecific cific partial artial partia It was easy enough to find us. The morning spun its web of darkness shining to the sea. The words and d…slowforward
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