by Bill Yarrow
Fax me back to the locked storeroom
where I'm kissing the hickeys on your back
while across the hall albino Flora sleeps in a narcotic haze
Fax me back to South Street listening to the dumpster
trumpeter, standing like licorice in the rain,
as the fetid officers assemble for the raid
Fax me back to running in the florid dark
stumbling like redundancy over stumps
in a stampede of buoyancy toward The Hotel Elsinore
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This poem was published in Arsenic Lobster.
Thank you, Susan Yount.
"Metro Retrofitting" appears in THE VIG OF LOVE (Glass Lyre Press 2016).
Provocative contexts, sharp imagery.
"standing like licorice in the rain,"
Good one! **
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** Whew! Amazing poem
Love the imagery, what Erika said.
"where I'm kissing the hickeys on your back"
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Thanks, Matt, Erika, Jerry, Arturo, Kitty, and Rachna!
Well done.
"kissing the hickeys on your back
while across the hall albino Flora sleeps in a narcotic haze"
"listening to the dumpster
trumpeter, standing like licorice in the rain"
"stumbling like redundancy over stumps
in a stampede"
I bet this is fun to read aloud.
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Snapshot memories. Can see them.
Dumpster - trumpeter - stumbled - stumps - stampede = wonderful progression.
"as the fetid officers assemble for the raid" great line but maybe consider shedding the "the"?
Using fax as a conduit is pretty inspired. Good stuff! *
Thanks, Gary, Ray, Reva, and Charlotte!