Voice File
And they read this.
Muffled voice,
extended
final phonemes
rolling
so
slowly
Plossive stops,
Built in the city.
My poems:
Clicks and fricatives
that bleed
Each pop pauses with each place
Of articulation
With sounds sputtering sentient
Pick Pop Lick Ipicac
stop
I do not want to hear your
Rolling vermilion violence
so
soft
And please,
only
stop
It’s been too long
Since I’ve had your hand
Something About the Onions
And something about the onions
Made me think about that hostile-
That night you disappeared parking
And I worried you wouldn’t come back.
I bought these new skinny jeans
Just to wear these new boots
They have a button down fly
Instead of a zipper
Like those black jeans
You had
The ones I tried to undo
One handed
While I kissed you
And let you inside me
But you never let me in
And I wonder if your atoms
Are still on me even after
