Mar 17, 2026

Memory lane...

 particular tokens of little. your wizard hat is great chaos

ascending. my dress, scattered lustre. i have been writing

a harp machine for your new tongue. and let my thighs pour into


air


birds that fly back from the night


the cinema of your lips

_______________


Now You Say I Hold The Key


of course I do

my foot hooked to this bar stool

brain

drooling


shot glasses stacked

like poker chips


I’m a burglar

with a calisthenic soul

I have a crooked face

and a large milky bed

you can rest there

still as a toy

and in the morning

I’ll put on my white dress

and wash your skin


we’ll be eggs

fat as generals

solid as blood


we’ll be each others trigger-

happy punctuation

_______________


Not Poem Hands)Little Anything With Hands


your star eyes

hook me

but

continue


because no circling winks are lost


wanted –

a sun world


that creates the temple

of mushy want poems


more

shrinking beers &


I wrote this one


to the boy with the mini

belly button ring

his nodding face on my back


everything cube & cool

_______________


Once


he asked

where have u been?


beneath us the moon is giving it away

to water


& shiny things gently fold in

upon themselves


has something beautiful happened?


only upstream


your tree shouldered


slopes


are being coded with black silver




https://contemporaryamericanvoices.wordpress.com/category/tasha-klein/

No comments: