2 Poems

Steve Willard

This is Slake



I love the way she thinks so
downstairs I’m gone

prefinger and hexforam
              braceblattered     soft colt stars.

Everyone gets up as the gesture of alloy-
hardening.  It’s distributed of knotted keel

                             specific set (water
              (pointed widely) oxyawn-eyed

Is no dance some just rated
rack constricts to even mad-

            ras—
                         these dream is plenty
fast
        I        tombeauc    rael

                                        debrision
hair on the step resists even every

= = =
stiff-styled wrist with face joyoused;
                            abomination-swa-le :
 

Songuel : Of Shel-Carriet :




                               continuation from irons
                the cascade means “beau fetteral”
—of what?
           Say an assault of value against salted shirt rose

final.  The flag a scrap of meat, scent like
drownding in a chewed checker-weed; to

                marry open              term of decicia a drop oh.-
             Tong-touching strong hall-muscles or strappet. oh-

One tunes the fennel.  Water takes on the rhombic frost-yellow
baste speared by the moment packed grains faced like stones of

       where the two deep brown islandite houses burnt
             to stars (seen.)  That’s what you remember . 
       then the projection is a caber
overbursturing past the interior of a vase, but we barely

                                                                             kettle    tar    from    a    lip    in    a
 relippate
             —of    your     choosing.               Or     above-eye,        puppetghosts      on
tare. symptomet. u.