We fight, Fate and I,
while she’s plucking words
out of my back, whisperings
that say she wants mad art
screaming at life:
“Be words of embryonic blood,
hurricanic laughter in tradition’s walls.
Be raw fearlessness.”
I stretch my spine, bare
my teeth, give what pleases her
and me—I am an irrepressible
the wee notes…
– I’m really enjoying this tweaking and combining of Poem Bits… I hope you don’t tire of the results too quickly, my Wicked Luvs, for I see a few of them in our future. They are just so much fun to play with. 🙂
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Flash 55) and Poets United (Poetry Pantry 318).
– Below, I’ve included the blackout poem bits that make up this piece. Find similar bits, on Instagram.