chills

persistence of the itch.
petals fall, and one does stray
in the small of your back,
where you hope
no one sees.

not even the
most preoccupied
of crouton-starved pigeons.
lost, in their
guttural coos.

ankles deep,
in a flood unseen.
months to follow,
after 2002.
the downward sloping yard still sobs.

pneumonia all over.
dancing.

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5 thoughts on “chills

  1. This is strange and intriguing.
    Tell me, oh tell me – who are some of your poetic influences?
    You know, your poetry’s wonderful erratic, free associational curves make me think of more human, urban meaningful versions of certain surrealist poets. Here’s an excerpt from a P. Soupault poem, ‘Gold Medal’:

    Night jostles her stars
    It rains sand and cotton
    It is so hot
    but silence weaves sighs
    and the glory of summer

    … something about the style makes me think of your poetry. You know?
    I think surrealist touches really enhance the magic of poetry, and slams down any notion of cliché.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Firstly, thank you so much for your feedback. Indeed, free association dictates the work I share here, although I strive to touch upon overarching themes (putting in a lot of autobiographical elements). I’m actually not well-versed in formal writings. If anything, what inspires me are musical artists such as Tori Amos, Bjork, P.J Harvey, Fiona Apple, etc. I will check out P. Soupault’s work. The excerpt you shared makes me think more about the process by which I write poetry. I must read more of this later today.

      Again, many thanks.

      Liked by 1 person

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