It was like one of those dreams where you're filled with some extravagant feeling you might never have in life, it doesn't even matter what it is, even guilt or dread, and you learn from it what an amazing instrument you are, so to speak, what a power you have to experience beyond anything you might ever actually need.
--Marilynne Robinson, "Gilead"
Distortionist
I can only draw rats. Rat drinking soda, rat
soda flavor not yet sure how that'd sit, plain
with white I know you feel this in certain
landscapes: terror, balustraded the shin of each
stair to your room. We sleep. All I have, both my
names mean rock, you could draw back your lip
and your nails burn as fingertip my shoulder,
bite, this is how it feels it feels if like that
between them
building sickening in came a skink, you, did she
care a whetstone bleat clasping nine of the ten
heads we hold, your chest, sex, starting over we
came this far only nice nice.
He's more NRA than
you, more of a little wicked liquor, hold it whiskey
in your throat a night you willing forget. He is
training. Know. Telling I lie, told the clerk leave it on the
counter paid for I'll be back. We love it in the arms.
Upon a night, she in the other room, really just one
large room, I hope she can't hear it doesn't matter
cold penetrating I hold it, your chest, here we are in
hail, twin tip, my hand, please it think, you will, you voicing,
our hulls barely tipping touched hold on to a crack
shoulder will readjust all so fair, so, know it, much fairer
in morning the mouse leaving his nest by your bed.
I can only draw rats. Rat drinking soda, rat
soda flavor not yet sure how that'd sit, plain
with white I know you feel this in certain
landscapes: terror, balustraded the shin of each
stair to your room. We sleep. All I have, both my
names mean rock, you could draw back your lip
and your nails burn as fingertip my shoulder,
bite, this is how it feels it feels if like that
between them
building sickening in came a skink, you, did she
care a whetstone bleat clasping nine of the ten
heads we hold, your chest, sex, starting over we
came this far only nice nice.
He's more NRA than
you, more of a little wicked liquor, hold it whiskey
in your throat a night you willing forget. He is
training. Know. Telling I lie, told the clerk leave it on the
counter paid for I'll be back. We love it in the arms.
Upon a night, she in the other room, really just one
large room, I hope she can't hear it doesn't matter
cold penetrating I hold it, your chest, here we are in
hail, twin tip, my hand, please it think, you will, you voicing,
our hulls barely tipping touched hold on to a crack
shoulder will readjust all so fair, so, know it, much fairer
in morning the mouse leaving his nest by your bed.
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