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Click hereRow, row, row,
boat and slump,
three days out of the grave.
Reanimated bones.
Lackadaisy, less and less.
Bones, bones, brittle bones.
Oh, dear.
Did you leave your breath
beneath the daisies?
Row, row, row
to gasping shores
and kiss those sands of time.
Let me brush your grainy lips,
taste the seconds of your smile.
Back to the grave.
I know you now.
born of strange inspiration
on 8-9-04
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copyright d. dixon
originally posted 8.11.04 with the deleted line:
Talented tibias, Miss Patella.
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It reminds me a little of the Conrad Dimple poems, in part because of the rhythm, I think. A very arresting set of images.
I have to read your poems a few times and sometimes they jump into my skin as if born there. You are a gifted poet, in terms of odd inspirations. I will admit, I miss Mona and Conrad, but I could see the bones in this one, sauntering along, clackity clack....I love your work, Eve. I am so thrilled you are posting again, besides what is in the threads. I don't go there anymore...but if I did, it would be to read your "stuff". You rock!
That is one of the damn oddest poems I've ever read. I have no idea why, but I REALLY, REALLY like it. :)