Cut the morning out of this text
and other poems
ANNE GORRICK

After the poem “In Tearooms, in the Metro,” as suggested by Google.

 

The end of citation, swim in air tonight, heated butterflied swing

Sinking into your tea of tears, into hasty paperbacks

I saw you tearing a papertowel from the roll

Tiger tears describe Bach’s grief

What is the mood of your mouth?  Picoseconds, microseconds

The killing bachelor, the mentalist mechanic, the mermaid of

Venice

He’s a metacritic, a metro bunny jackass

Nuns a’wading, a habit of nunslaughter

Bald orchids, the Middle Ages, rosary robbed, human ash

Sorghum, sortilegio, say out loud each sediment by name

How sun tolerant are your hostas, your flowers, your ferns?

How many lipsticks will measure the distance between the sun

and the earth?

Washing up on her mind’s common beach:

suspensory ligaments, horseshoe crabs, horseradish

He sleeps in wire shade, a theory of a deadman

Circle proofs in latex for free

Prove to me your triangles are similar

Crooked vultures and their thangs

He is a theme park accident

Enthralled, the virgin and child sculpture where god reigns

A Madonna in isolation, her heart full of wind

A heron is eating her goldfish

A herons landing event team

Nest wine, non verbal cues, the No Neck blues band

Netherwing tabard, presence, eggs

Sheenisms in maroon, a reunion in terror, condensed matter