John Allen

Rookie (2/26/83 / New Yawk)

Dust - Poem by John Allen

smoking patio
breathing pine bush
leaves of green razor.

the march leaf hanging like a crippled

Your dark glasses and oily skin.
I speak, you look like
you just lost your best friend.
You belch carcinogens, the spilling
smile of smoke, grinning contours
Thick. my sympathy is rotten honey
burnt faintly when you move to ash.

A starless morning,
the cuffed breeze,
sky's crisp condescension with
the blueness of your monster: to
speak in taxidermy, words
empty sound bytes
your mouth reeling celluloid
stuffed with black feathers. I
will not see you long again, it
should grow dark tonight.

You will talk your way back into it

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Comments about Dust by John Allen

  • (6/1/2006 10:16:00 AM)

    A feeling of discontent within the narration. At once speaking, as if, to an individual, but the use of language and the skill employed in the structure of this piece, overshadows such intent. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, June 1, 2006

Poem Edited: Thursday, June 1, 2006

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