Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Language Poem for English 3440


Touch-tipped fingers fall
touchily on thighs, pleasure-
points, elbow-joints.  Smooth
raking.  Hungry
thirst.  Peel a strip.
Then another bite of
banana.  Taste of flesh.
White and unrelenting.
Yielding away like falling
dominoes, black dots on white
faces, clicking and clacking
and then—yes.

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