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|
Lynze Newbern |
| my
brain has left the building |
Don't try to get inside
I've been confusing me for days
a new bird call like a whip
o will remix
a sustained accent
on the wrong syllable
the vending machine's touchy
the library's feely
the halyard whips metal
like a lone boat in a memorex marina
and the elm tree sperms spring
I haven't seen dancing since January
I think I'll go native
pick the lint from my navel
develop a rutfuck for a ratface
eat some oranges. some tobacco
take up gardening, plant
a kiss in the desert
pray for rain |
| Copyright © Lynze
Newbern 2003. All
rights reserved. |
Lynze writes at work, at home, and
when she's supposed to be putting her kids to bed. Sometimes she
writes when she is brushing her teeth. She writes stingrays across
sand, under the ripple light of water. She lives in Florida and on
the web, blowing across it like the cytology of
spider silk. Deconstruct her, print her. She thanks the zines who
have published her such as MiPo, 3rd muse and Peshekee
River. |
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Kudos |
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Photo copyright © Jillian Ann. All rights reserved.
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