Voliocentae Taurum


In Butterfield

the bull arranged chrysalis corpses

to compete with lady fingers,

bunny sternums and

 

F r a g i l e  X–

 

and amongst fine china

I curtsied–

to the funk of sad piano

and my salty topic lips.

 

He concocted grainy shrimp cocktail

from

 

S e a – s i c k n e s s

 

and murmured for me–

a bracelet from

evils (necessary/plural)

and lamb snarls,

on spectrum we waited–

 

T i c k l e d

O v e r

T e a.

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