Three Poems
John Allen Taylor
Today I kiss her knuckles & we lumber home like mammoths.
Today I kiss her knuckles & we lumber home like mammoths.
Lyrical lines of color dripping down: a chemical skyline.
The only piece of advice I’ve got for anyone is to shout your precious name into the rain & wait for a response.
A garment can withstand swell if the body can withstand laceration
The president lands to a reception line & it’s all already campaigning again always. The president lands & I already took a shit this morning.
In this piece, the sculptor will sculpt herself sculpting.
Lying next to her, I wrote the last chapter of the Bible and surrounded our bed with Doritos.
Let’s create fake accounts and try to seduce each other.
It’s not the enormity of the half-eaten doughnut.
Because I love in the manner of eating I am sure whatever I take from you will pass.
The man who bought Hitler’s bed did not have nightmares as a child.
Woke up alone today in my own bed
after a solid sleep for the first time
in over three weeks, feeling strange there,
almost rested, but not quite, how big
my bed was around me, how new
I carve horses out of watermelon. I swallow / fish eyes like gum drops. I pray under / neon chandeliers, string chrysanthemum / in my hair.
i think i was an onion in a former life / i think you chopped me / lord how high were we last night
Remember when every stray dog was a love story and the snow that night cleared the crust that had gummed my eyes shut? No, me neither, but fuck it. Let’s get lit one last time.
Is this new relationship self-sabotage in disguise, or is it the cure?
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