States of Poetry
the riot marches down pour lemonade into yr filters
watch it fizz w/ the aura of philosophy
confit the poor t ...
her temper tanty's sus but your mites say sassy
's entering the pleather dome lookin'
poised w/ noose & savvy much obliged to
glorify her cunning firm & tout
its nous for oblivion
where the pert velvet diva never lets you rest
your glass head in which infinite
pools rotating w/ lust
voice toots from the comments field
dissing your angel
daze of body & soul come to a / won’t come to an Toby Fitch A soft October morning, in sleep. It is one with at a window pane, bewildered The coffee cup, double espresso, a dark reaffirmation. ... after Horace, Odes I, v What slim-hipped beachboy dripping for him you have braided soon, black moods, black Sweet nothings in our ear A blessed mouthfu ... I was woken at some hour a burglar had broken in my step on the stairs above him was lying low in one of the Windsor chairs, unaware it w ...
end on this / the last night of dearth
brows
Recording
adagio sostenuto. Some part
of me is still delayed
night, with daylight
stars, moths that fumble
that this tract of sky,
like no other, will not yield.
is deeper than it looks.
Each sip I take
with musk is riding you
now on a bed of roses
in your snug den, Pyrra? Is it
those honey-gold locks
in a knot so neat, so
homely? One day
looks, he'll be cursing
you and the fickle
gods who have ...
cherub pumpkin dearest chuck
but to the heart which is the better
listener the password
to a tongue that only two in their comings
and goings have access toStates of Poetry 2016 - New South Wales | 'Visitation on Myrtle Street' by David Malouf
of darkness before dawn by a scent so heavy
on my senses, on the room, that I was convinced
and was loitering
upstairs or in the hallway, or having caught
in the laundry, or sitting
upright and unbreathing