legless doom.

legless doom.
by shannon baker
there is a way of discovering.
(the animal surgeon cuts apart
the rest only
cut open.)
the glitter-hands of other people will
pollute your mainline and this
will inspire
a caravan of hopeless
needle-trees with wide open cavities they want
to enhance your memories
they want to give you things
you’ll realize you always wanted
once you get them.
it seemed less dangerous
but cruise-control bellybuttons in the darkfoot-friendship
always did.
and although you thought you’d be
holding tongues with a miracle face by now
did not coincide
with the forgetful lightbombs
glued to the sky
will guide us
you ask questions.
we so lightly covered
with (red&kneading) fist-shaped
conversation holes
thrust and unthrust
all ways without
the tremble-worry
of eviction.
eventually this behavior
will catch up with us
will catch
careful (lie to let the love out)
brainwave milking
expensive cars drip
microbes from their tailpipes
beneath the bed
you promised
and i promised not
to take you

0 thoughts on “legless doom.

  1. For me this seems to be about marriage as a social convention meeting with two people otherwise unconcerned with social conventions.
    I love the “glitter-hands” visual. It feeds my mind a word/phrase for that angle a woman holds her left ring finger to show that she has enamored someone enough to warant carats.
    Darkfoot-friendships I interpret as meaning those you meet with undercovers that make for more intimate involvement then intended.
    I love this poem. It makes me sigh for romance and contemplate abandoning a position of surrender to the expectations of story-making invisible people. While they would gawk me into making families toward perpetuity, I only make love and babies. From my reading, this poem celebrates my kind of gibberish and intentions.

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