The Consolation of Poesy
streaked O happier daily apple face
unbecoming diamonds, sludge in your gown
the seep? the stomach! & a crime after all
laid tongue, face,
& choked down a thank you
do like you do: flout like no, speak the surface
would you prefer a happier plummeting?
O is the mirror in the pool... beautiful for
diamonds and apples, apple face
vanishing go the famished lilies, wink, tea in
the left hand got the drop on me, my right hand
is all, as the unclean say, courthouse herbicide
is rhyming puddle and
bone: up, apple face, I felt speak drift erotic string...
imagination's beauty mud-reds its white Dostoyevsky
flays velvet of polygraph in geese the rain jabs
the apple absolute, though it's slight down here, what are
you being consoled about, anyway?
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