Friday, January 22, 2016


("The Clown" by Henri Matisse)

Cut me loose!
cries the muse

Let me run

down the page
spilling ink
from my veins,
flinging fear
from your brow
like the foam
off a wave

But please,

before I'm bled—

Let me linger here

on a period.

Roll back and forth

on your fat, unctuous

Get squinched by

an em dash

Don the crooked crown 

of your assonance

If only for one

more line break
or spasm—

Until I've been drained

of all form and substance,
run off the cliff of your
crumbling courage

Where I will collect my 

bones in a sacred 

To put them up on 

a shelf in your

So they may sit

and shift



For you

And you alone

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