by Shannon Baker
two steel baseball batteries
i hid your lust bubbles
inside the canyon mother’s
chord progression
and all the broken thunder
knocked three times
on the backdoor of your
vision.  no one answered.
nothing except
girl-mammal cry-throb
you noticed nothing
(nothing but the boombox)
and i wouldn’t forgive such trumpet noise
not in the middle
of all this wire-limb role-play run around
there are ghost eyes waiting underneath
our citybus kiss affair
dead tire bridge.
you can lie if you want to
but fish don’t
without some drop dead promise contracts
and i am not willing
i am not part of
your church hideout treehouse
sex secret.
get your own storyteller mr. best friend.

0 thoughts on “LIFT THE BEGGAR'S SALARY.

  1. This is the usual masterpiece of ambiguous metaphor I expect from Shannon Baker. I don’t understand anything but the emotion, and even that I suspect–at least in terms of my own reading. The connections between words are surreal and meaningful all at the same time. Obviously, I have nothing appropriate to say in response–and I like that.

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