Friday, February 18, 2011

Drafted Rough.

When I Was 5 and Had My Looks

Oh a fox was I

A shell between a breast

I hung on frames

And shucked on legs


There was a flannel gown

Pressed between my gums

It draped on chains behind my door

It Pinked and pricked a

Sweet sweet basement of a girl

He was

A shelf on top my lungs


Never touched the ground

It’s fine

The sleeves claimed islands all their own

I often wonder

Will my waist come down



Raise my ruffle

Like a barn in the night

And take my twenty pounds to bank

Oh a fox was I

I wonder

When can I peel back that time

Too her holy skinless

Boyhood raft

Oh to be a waffle cutting


Gated thigh

To be an opera on his loafer

To choke in threads

And feel once more

~Skin and Toast

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