Jaklin
Reese
-
1 poem -
might like clay
well toned for the jolting
minglers that cough fertilizer
latex of true prose, foxes and flowers
her hair to wrap the thyroid
that looks for di of meated awareness
frying or jumping like
mother rustling in
ribhelmets, stocked to be a women afterspooning
lard gappings so the the pielids hammer
halfway my feet touched then outstreched from dusk
camp splendor of dejected
effects and cement hands
pasty and carressing
worts hostile to child's lice
my do's share quills of accidental life
decorative spines lack portraits of ammonia smelling late
