Thomas Fink



POND ORGANIZES A ROUND

fixation. Cable features wear
"impartiality." Subatomic grace. Key

to bored skin.
Scuttle your snit. Maybe
muffle your vote.

Imperial lips are pissing
cherries. A drone's never
a hum, but hangs
prone to marginalization by

the latter.
Every bray of the meek
could inspire a shiftless pity.

Is a drone, persisting
after beeline, bedtime, marginally

carcinogenic?
I sail a dead floor,
and I warm its fetid crack.
No scholars seize the chore
of animating slack.

Line riders speed much

maturity pent up in
trance. I press apprentices
to vary their arcs.
Coercion? To beautify. Shadow's
sheen cleaning out humid
cubicle, out of which
Apollonian intelligence should wriggle.

 
 
 
 
 
THAT BAROQUE STEEL RELIEF IS

heaved into a neighbor's back
yard. Not unpeevishly. That this
was never programmed for kinesis

becomes an ache somewhere inconvenient.
Does art accommodate its violation
generously?
Theories can bring awful
m-m-mold.

(Talkin' about my 'carceration.)
Hope I fly before I'm
s-s-sold.

Programmatic intuition: my breasts are
gawking at other toys. Who
holds the bounty cursed? Gene
motion always arriving to neck-

scruff laggards.
She wants now to spurn those things
I taught her.
(Wings that caught her.)
Tell her she can steep them

in her frame.
(In their flame.)

Next up: beveled novels to

be relived under curious hammers.





YINGLISH STROPHES VIII

Where from you crouching is

see good no blue steady
and crawl white. Paper office

you diversion, these columns what
perspires the doers always and
figures growing out. Out. "Never

forever." I interest sky is
where am I landing the
next tomorrow. Or some enough
near. It's all over a

Lost Vegas they shovel more
shekels shoving productive you can't
by me. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

We'll have snow April. Did
you ever have here April

snow? Do you remember?






e-mail the poet at mamtaf@juno.com
info on the writer
to go back to the home page