she smiles and plucks him like a harp peels him like an orange with her white teeth a hyacinth poetic pulse sliding her throat perfume rhymes in her veins an aromatic haiku in her wink needle diamonds
sharp tipped silver sliver between her fingertips she has chosen a deep canary yellow to sew his skin back on a dreaming poet tattooed with glistening silk on the inside of his wrist filled with straw
she pulls his sinew like five point thorns with little fingertips plays them like the strings of a violin a lunar orbit fallen to a teal wall displaying a velvet painting of Jesus or maybe it was Elvis in the cloudy margarita above barstools reserved for dead poets swimming animate poet skins
This poem leaves me w/a sense of a highly sophisticated version of Attack of the Puppet People.
Such patented voodoo surreality should have further effects. Perhaps armed w/bow and lyre an army of Selene-ized straw poets could invade innumerable bars throughout the land, puncturing unsuspecting barstool habitues' ankles w/a potion designed to dissolve convenient categorizations in the brains of dedicated imbibers.
Aggregated, society would thus be injected w/medicinal mercurialness, catalyzing transformation in the arteries of citi-zenry, inaugurating the reign of the marvelous.
a lunar orbit fallen to a teal wall displaying a velvet painting of Jesus
or maybe it was Elvis in the cloudy margarita
Those velvet paintings give me the creeps.. not sure why.
I like the symbolism of embroidery and how the artist.. no matter what medium is the one to watch.
For some reason i was smiling through this, felt as if you were playing a game, but, oh by using such wonderful words, phrases, you have the skill to take the ordinary and release it way over my head .. don't know about anyone else's.
'an aromatic haiku in her wink' .. i'd like to embroider those words and hang them for the world to see