sleeves by John M. Bennett

days or clam was
backwards ,hair em
blazoned with a brain
or was that shape of
ants the hive arcane
or thunder in the
chicken soup it’s
lawns you swallow
“over turned” un
written nails rusting
in a sleep offsh
ore ,g lass your
finger’s cut deep in

  

After Ivan Argüelles’
“To the Unknown God of Lost Fingers”

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