.. from THE MOON WORN TIDES, The Prose Poems, Vol.1.. ‘Domestic Séance’

Dean J. Baker - Poetry, and prose poems

I rotted with your good intentions. The fine feelings and sacrifices.
Watching television; listening to radio: reading the news, and worse novelists.

You were picking your left nostril. Scratching your voluminous arse.
Being modern.

You were arguing who should do what, first. Last. Or not at all.
Such atavism thinking about love as if it were history bound to wound
or repeat itself.
Dull, smell. A seminarian’s task.

Forgetting your name in the tide that calls back men and women.

Buried in a static which, for everyone suffering from exposure, is choice.
You seep blood like the sinewed carcass of a neighbor’s bad dream.

Lovers, well-traveled.

©Dean Baker

View original post 7 more words


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s