Susana Gardner!! Three Sonnets!

Rough Springing Pig Cupids Forever Rooting Erotic Garbage in Alleys Near the Arno in Florence

Would I with guts? No wild oats would then sow. 

No. Intestined—pomey  protesting—dire

wild oats what could not then sow or spawn 

but what Phantasie with those she most 

loved. O Ultimo Sun Sorrows! O Giovanni!
O Futurist tableau! Oh write me an ode

to bodily love. Trace your fingers over me, when I 

say I,  I never mean you.  I only have my own
Calandabric thoughts to Intrude upon. Today
I got an email from the moon—Full

Pig Cupids lap the Arno— Uncensored 

Bodily Functions. Wedged between Seers 

&misguided men. O, Pet his head. Coins fall
from his snout—aim for his watery mouth, for luck.

Sonnet in which I steal all the words from your favorite poem in Rough Spring

Despite this crowded alone my ever.

You from me a frame, only to escape this
Ghost-nag— but I am I and I will not go but stay. 

World weary and that’s all and that’ll never-away
or escape me and all that. As that is this song

Unhappy costume my through and I

Will slip this spirit—softly, alone

Of all am I: PRONOUNS. And so and so

I fate this, I crowd this, I curious this

And you crowd this too and change me again—

Escape myself and all that is that for that and
never, never away. As that is this song

That lives through my air and sound and

World and that’s all and that’ll never-away. 

Ghost-nag me, I will not go despite 

The crowded alone my never.

(untitled sonnet) 

Sometimes we seal from sight what frightens us
Sometimes that is brash imagism
w/ paper    or some other bullshit ornamentation

Ezra’s eyes
no longer flicker

No longer distill the world
 into an image
 of the metro

Singular dove-grey moments, blinding
Pearl-pale lights
My overcast city

Composed sequences or musical phrases 

Hills of 

KERPLUNK!
 
I cannot now remember
the blinding
With BEAUTY
Or the random
German phrases from odd philosophical texts
Or what might 

Victorian Pulp novel me
Toward ever-awake

Night