by svelte walker
Full of sound and image,
furiously signifying. . . ?
This poem contains some wonderful writing,
but seems sectioned and with the weakness
of no strong inner thread to tie it together
in a more obvious unity of work.
button says we need another category of poetry on literotica.com
"called for muffled cries injected into bare arm
self hickey breath around"
god I love this line.
Sveltwalker, you are a naughty girl, I think there is a club...
Okay Peter, not one of your strongest
At least so it seems to me;
Feels more like stream of consciousness
With myriad random thoughts
Bumping up against each other.