305 Readings | 1 Rating

Dear Dear

you construct,

caught in the


proverbial headlights.

Machinated like fruit


in sweetly lost.

Worry not,


wont not.

Unbend your lap of


luxury & welcome

home your loyal


servitude. As in

dog slave the


clean. As in

make glove not


lore. As in

legislate an end


to this confusal.






Lean, you’ll



in the cool glower

of repair


at once ought

& naught—


(hurry up please,

it’s time)


Posted 09/22/14
From This Visit (BlazeVOX, 2015) (http://www.blazevox.org/index.php/Shop/new-releases/this-visit-by-susan-lewis-384/). First published in Wilderness House Literary Review.
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