Wednesday, March 28, 2012

discontinuous. poem by Cola Hines

just call me on the phone
I’m sitting here at home
I like to be alone
but I want to know you’re there
liquid pink fringe 
     your hands, your belly : tilt back 
against the table —
happy sometimes — a sunny night —
I don’t think you’re 
ever finished;
you end up where you once began
pick book up & start again
slender form
you taunt me
from the shelf —
truncated coyote howl
saying step aside I need a coffee

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