Sunday, June 20, 2010

Below is a poem loosely inspired by Srikanth Reddy's Voyager; I'll be honest: based on what I've seen of the collection, I'm not a fan. I am, though, or at-least was, rather fond of his first book, Facts For Visitors. I'm not a fan of the single-sentence, or sentence fragment, line; enjambment rocks! I often work modes I'm less than drooling over; it's one of my most mega MOs.

I tried to tell you.
Telling you I tried to tell others.
You-all listened.
What ya’ll heard ain’t me.
There were birds; there often are.
Sometimes there are feathers blown about.
There’s rarely loose blood.
Nicked skin is common.
Someone illegally inserted glowing genes.
The expected results prove non-existent.
There’s unexpectedly radiant lymph.
This assumes the interpretive apparatuses aren’t a crock.
I dreamed of eating a lusciousness of hare and wine and blood.
I woke up tired from dreaming.

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