Dedrick Estiltaph Poems

no.
it's that the pops occur.
no.
it's that I hear them well.
...

that sweet nectar of backhand
and chin-scrape
has
bloomed.
...

my body built wierd
to prepare for the alien ending and
its three grass orbs shooting off flames
like peculiar fireflys.
...

I rock out to chairs;
my morning breathe of Nietzsche
streams bode-'Fore-Bode'
name is he the goes by
...

eye...
wouldn't you're like
to grip him's optic nerve m'
rip snort -tort- shell-is from
...

Is a great place when you're sober.
The birds chiere;
Flowers breethe;
Friends laugh slow,
...

Oh! and he jumps face first
into absinthe [proper stowing
means abscess
around the vowels],
...

Virginia Apgar died

1974
...

a clearing in woods near my sidekick

remains,
dry stocks in plunging likeness:
...

AWELL

down steps she walks in white,
shined, shining of spit.
...