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    dots Submission Name: my greenish woman ate an appledots

    Author: blackbird
    ASL Info:    31/male/reykjavik iceland
    Elite Ratio:    2.35 - 194/328/300
    Words: 343
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 491
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2443


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    dotsmy greenish woman ate an appledots

    the apple grew
    where the snake knew
    that it would.
    then he passed it around
    with the clever intention
    of encircling the world
    with posh circuit-board highways
    that reminded him
    of himself.
    only involving more alcohol
    (if you can believe that)
    & the bruising like potholes
    spoke of no sins
    that any fruit
    could possibly spill forth
    like seeds into the brains
    of pink-eyed vagrants.

    heaven finds weather
    inside turnips
    almost as much as it does
    in the antique film reels
    that share your name.
    not the one that you tell people,
    but the one you keep inside
    like tequila
    when you're smoking alone
    on the rocks
    with those greta garbo lidded eyes
    of yours
    dreaming of love affairs
    that end & begin
    with the letter z.

    i pivot cigatette holders
    in your general direction
    waiting for the record player
    to sound more like those music boxes
    that i hid beneath the floor.
    they lump there,
    almost tripping all the hipsters
    that can never find the romance
    in the knots of trees.
    that can never hear
    the glitch pop
    coming from the crickets
    that brings me to my knees,
    eyes closed
    & surprised like rum & coke
    found me sleeping
    next to you.

    but where did the snake go?
    did it grow legs
    like god and geometry
    & drip past me
    in the mirror
    like those afternoon poems
    made of diamonds?
    or were they black fire opals
    that i put in the blender
    for breakfast.
    morning is a strange city
    & i've never had a thing for apples.
    are you out there?
    words leave my brain
    like secret airplanes
    move through rain.

    i have a darb feeling
    that my curse
    has yet to spark.
    somebody speak the words
    that will undo me
    cause i'm gaining too much metal
    in my blood
    & laughter is a soft place,
    like someone else's body.

    & still,
    i'm never close enough to home
    & my greenish woman
    stays as allusive
    as the moss of always.

    Submitted on 2008-06-29 04:59:38     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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