Poem of the Week

Level spread

the lake my bosom

and its shadow

exaltation lifted

my liquid features

from the corroded mist

I have as much at stake

in speaking this

as the water

which also

discloses futurity

in a little black dress

for all history

awaited you

was open to you

bade you

entrance

to an unequivocal buffet

of redacted mischief

we’re just friends

hanging out

in my apartment

until the world ends

and now that the world

has ended and we have not ascended

into heaven

here comes the future

let it in

let it in and let

our consumptive prom

begin