The Two Orchard Thieves

Wikipedia Poem, No. 577

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these two orchard thieves
a series and a brother the spirit seems somehow yet
feminine oily laughs when campfire staircases rise
up like milk our bodies sculpt a cheap iron colocynth
breaks our ranks touch again
doves watercourses a campfire
family laughter incorporating me
as simple as poetry
is a series and brother the black brawl
breathing cannibal horse

Wikipedia Poem, No. 166

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“All I did was let the kettle boil.” John Ashbery

 

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QUOTE, draft 100520131220

unlicked filth on bentbranch fingers
               & a chemical thin residue

lean waits to be pleased
across his mottled brow
               & thensudden cheekbone spikes

no gleam. despite his mottling hair

a swamp alive
               & long ago wet precious &
                    fragile
                    as a cradle

unprintable man
loved at impossible distance and when
               & when
wise brown eyes close
               & back turns
into every crack
memories like steam rise.