Poetry Less Than Daily

Strong Poems. Beautiful Poems. Tough Poems. Poems w/ the F-word. Poems less frequent than before but no less kick-ass.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Crystal Curry


We wanted it far more finger to nose; low pile
on knee-high seats, haywired. We wanted it shamrock,

erotic wind. Bright city, we’re doing it lightning,
come in. We wanted it come to rest on the craps table,

so we would feel so very money storm then.
Better than tens. Whirling lights, then.

We wanted it get down to steer & crustacean,
a triple-cash up to the oompah they were & galleons.

We wanted it so exponential in the gold award castle.
Pluto, oh petunia, can you see we wanted it so extra mega

that we swallowed those lucky & all their ladies, their
trucking & weekend. We were feeler, hoof

& fruit multiplier. We wanted it so sizzling seven,
we fell into a doghouse for king watermelon. For you,

a doghouse, for balloon bars. We did it so diamond deluxe,
we wanted it more pretend, so we did it on Santa’s

jackpot bed & felt so very more big pulsar then--


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