Saturday, March 25, 2017

Poem for a Foggy Day

forget carl

forget fog creeping in
on little cat feet. Meet instead 
the white vapor swallowing
my head, whole hog.

Wallowing, he devours
ships, the tallest redwoods.
Entire landscapes, coastlines
the size of Maine
drip from his soft gray lips.

Fed, he leers, gluttonous.
This pig can be butchered
but it takes an ax of sun to roast him.

Then he boils off, froth to the sky.

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