Poetry of Issue #4
 
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Table of Contents |
Conversation with a Dying Woman
I’m sorry but you were smoking a pipe so I got scared Maybe it was all just a dream because I remember especially the part where I told you but instead and you said |
The Last Rays of the Sun
Pastel outcrops and the lute you were born a consequence of your creation, and you’re my punishment My kisses cause strawberries as light penetrates your pigment, We’re attracted to the idea the last rays of the sun, accentuated by the edge a gilded chandelier, Richard King Perkins II__ |
Bayonets of Morning With muted amber lament where the bones of complacent mountains Ungrasp with difficulty the ebony fire of sunlight the ground gives silent warmth; brittle blacks of yestertime in fields that harmonize and weep. Yet the bloodflow of your form and if offered the choice of infinity I’d ask only for the simplest understandable Richard King Perkins II__ |
Antique and Collectible Mall Stealing from family and acquaintances here come the heroin kids— bringing the best merchandise to sell: Victoriana, gold jewelry, but I reluctantly have to pass on the Tiffany lamp with a separate insurance rider. Sometimes the addicted young women show up with nothing to sell because they guys have mentioned from the rich Iranian dude who owns the trailer park. Twenty years later Like an overburdened simian, to light up a shade which I finally just had to buy I should have passed on the hand job Richard King Perkins II__ |