My literal realist (so irate) selects
recital reels, assails me with artless titles —
‘tart’, ‘sl*t’. An iota I’ll alter (retort: all lies!).
Take to the costlier cast; I’ll, the elastic.
To a cloister retreat, an aerie, an attic
where toes + tiers are rare, there create an ascetic,
a solitaire star. Roses and aloes to tears
‘til clear at last, cares coalesce and re-tells cease.
Across it all, I’ll recite an easier air:
cool cellars and clarets, and classical cellists.
Sated on eclairs – so erotic, the classiest,
roists and rills, our cries: recall it all —
your tales, your tease, your taste,
a celestial laser – so electrical.
Image: – On the way to Southern California, Angelo DeSantis via Wikimedia.
Terrance Hayes, in Hip Logic, there is a section entitled “A Gram of Ampersands” in which each poem is constructed with lines ending in words made up of the title word – so his poem Nuclear, has lines ending with uncle, rule, learn, and so on. This offering is a little messier than that, hope you like it. And here’s So Electrical by Eves the Behaviour.
This is so crazy awesome.
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Agreed!!
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I came back to enjoy it again. The last stanza really floors me. I think just like this — words inside words, twisting and squirming — so you stoke me.
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Hahaha, love anagrams and loved this. Only catch–my eyes are spinning independently. 🌀🌀
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