A GIANT ASLEEP IN SPINDLE’S FORTUNE

Year(s) of the Pig(s)



That hurts. Poison is my confidante
Opening my pores with fingers that perish 

The blouse for a moment, green! But 
Just—
Then turn—

Snout and hooves and entrails 
Into knapweed
Maggots and fancy cake



Seahorses blazing in fretted groves. Exotics 
At the polls
Win—in contemporary count, surrender. Another face 
Blown open. Another
Hung on a speculum. A grunting saucereye
Yeah that—

Translations of the execution 
Gather ‘round strawberry skirts. Crackers 
Soldier such courtesans 
Sweeten stiff marching orders 



Julia holds her insides
Obituary for the cerement flag 
Broken praise for silvered stripes. I praise her 
Angelfish. I praise her eyes 
Keep widening. I praise her devotion 
To the Atlantean. Please please you
Get out while you can 



Children hide their kidneys
In kissy noises reminiscent of church, especially 
Mingled with pastries and anthrax. Clouds part 
The marsh, beating poison into thistle
Curing the scent of exodus. Why little one murders
A piglet, returning a heart catches dear



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A GIANT ASLEEP IN SPINDLE’S FORTUNE

a poem for Joshua Marie Wilkinson



Sing listening
… the blast—

Foxes 
Giving birth to curtains 
Of fat 

Butchery uh
—slinking, abashed  

Smells 
Like candy
Whilst lavender means of deliverance



To have seen what you
Processions 

Shy shrubs giving birth to pure color
Crowning

Grandmothers cut into dainty dishes
Smack that apple-purple



Say you hear it, yes, and
Two enormous blimps floating into a storm 
Robes of oracles shadowing earth
Enormous blimps floating through sugar
Corrosives eating voice and echo and shadowing 
Cannot, however, conceal 
The dancing mammals in the sky
Corsages of lips spilling anthologies of dread

In a named embrace of joy. A certain distance keeps

brandon shimoda