Kneejerk

Try as I might,
I can’t remember knowing her
as I had wanted to:
poetry brooked
timid hints of skin
– degenerate humanity
hidden behind mirror
shades – metaphors for
the blind, going blind, groping
arches, kneeling
in stone grit,

trading
blows with humid air
ghosts.

I need to stop writing about sex.

She started,
“Write what you know.”

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Written by Sonzogni

September 8, 2010 at 12:38 am

Posted in Poetry

3 Responses

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Chris. You need to update. People still read these things. This is fantastic.

anothercrossedout

January 28, 2011 at 12:17 am

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This is Annelise, by the way.

anothercrossedout

January 28, 2011 at 12:17 am

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The one I just posted, “Topographical Map” is a radical revision of this one.

Sonzogni

January 28, 2011 at 12:32 am

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