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Tag: Alphabet

Alphabet Primer

ant arpeggios
ascending
across apples
bassoons
beached
catalytic
converter
clanking
clanking
clanking
dogwood
drowning
each
easy
fustian
frolic
guitar
gig
hot heavy hair
itch it juxtaposition kissing kangaroos loose
monumental moment neononesuch operatuneditty pick
pick
pick
quick quote roach
run
saturnalia
socks
tunnel tumult
umbrella vexed virago waddle will exegesis
you’re yours zone

zero

zonk

After Words

After whirls listen
whale hush comes
the cat jigs the bat
for your cares ward
off dangerous asks.

For love these old letters
wild bedraggled wag around
nest of gnarled grunts
mosses bones hair vines.

The old alphabetical guard
strains in place at attention
runes assigned ward beds
grand command inspection.

Sparse words heal
after wounds foraged
forward in a land
of odd angles
accentuated by red pencils.

Winds mean about
we know not what
if in the end this
is an end or a start.

“It’s like a new
pair of ears,”
after words wishes
remains unspoken.

Vowel Motion & Consonant Commotion

Vowel Motion

accelerate encyclopedia inch along
oval verbs Uranus Your > yr
wave  ~ func
funa  [this space left blank] fank
fenk fink Fonk
funk  [purposelessly] California
Faulkner Mississippi Oak Grove
Umbrella  #dearjohn Adieu Aeiou – Ah, You!

Consonant Commotion

Click and clack bicycle rack tongue and tooth
cat myrrh-th parts, spokes and wheels
synth Dry gin groove
Sly tryst Hymnal perpendicular hill
WHY THIS?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

AND NOT WHAT?
 nothing Peaceful city  nothing goin’ on
Slow whisper shy summer down by the wyrm bay
consonants moving by & by

 

C

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C comes to close,
chimes, “Oh! Hello,”
and commences
to catch water,

waiting for the ferry,
then the crossing,
and the long cruise
back to the city.

A bald eagle floats,
driftwood across the cant
tilt and lilt of the wharf:
tackle shops and taverns.

“Sure,” C says, though
sounds disappointed,
cooped up in Coupeville
open mouthed, chip

on shoulder shooting pool:
“7 ball, side pocket,”
but clips the cue
ball curling.

“A difficult shape,
a hard cut,
to make sense of,”
C says, scanning
sound’s mirror,
ceiling reflecting cold water.

Another crew of sailors
occupies the tavern,
drinking to a mate’s
re-upping:
“Here’s to Carl,”
amidst a cheer
and a clap.

C looks around,
fails to see
any circular irony.

Cadmean Victory

They do not want for something to sayTree at top of park.
They run around and play all day
Syllabicating back and forth
No one asks what another is worth

At night they climb trees to sleep
They dream of mouths of lips and teeth
And breath of a land where speech
Is silly and fluid and free

Having no bowels they don’t see
The lithe ape thinking in a tree
Who would trap them in a man
And call himself can