Feral

 

to rearrange this into a maiden

with a pitcher of water sweeter

luster slave saloon in the sinuous

spine vertebrae that are too many

for the body human twenty-seven

letters of an alphabet offering

dancing inflection

infection reflection

amber cancer

unaccepting the unreality

since that time all the flowers

rose in the animal air

and the trees drove away

Adam and Eve wanton

no part of it and fruit spoils

 

 

 

Incurvation

 

blink think sing drink
puzzle prizzle at glances
sin skin ink
spider's silk milk here
hear woven generate
haste waist decay
dreaded by the carnel lover

 

Polish American Writers

“But this language of yours,” said one of the instructors, himself an obvious Britisher, “where does it come from?”  … “From the mouth of Polish mothers,” I replied.

—William Carlos Williams, The Autobiography, p. 311