Chains
(magnetic poem found in a coffee shop in Media, Pa.)
By Anonymous

you flood her under the void of death
tongue white with lather
raw and weak
chant like a crushing boil trip
pound of spray smelling after you
day leave only the shadow
languid language
moan but lie
man not behind
  void thousand
incubate and wax
      blue wind
water ugly    like juice
    smooth


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