Corina Copp, p.4


In a movement called impossible
Bile permeates toilet water

In a moment reeking, a senile wind—the crispy out of a holed joinery
Crept a buffalo in candlelight to the window

Going down? Helping out? Mother says to Mary
Making friends? Get dirty, Eat Aggressor

Tortoise as a hammer pliés meets the grand animal
On a day where one speck of orange grates

Avatar—of narcissism, we meet a hairy fluff
To necktie contentedness, I dedicate

Quiet as a sledgehammer in a dream
The usable artifacts shift

Pounding metal to importing platinum
Plate investors, stainless century-whole-thing

Mouth the brass goblets
As if making steel and buildings

Alchemy hot dog stand and dog bath facilities
Heckled like fleas’ town

An architecture’s future slobbered
Hard-earned moon time

Gone: as Shakespeare’s father’s glove shop
Sheep stunned in the desert

Or the tundra
Arctic nobodies, growing

Walk to the wholesale market
Leaves wool suspended, we’ve never had belief

In the legalization of sex!
Butter, Viola, and the bread, too placed on your face

Those with an inferior taste-test product fizz actual consumption:
The carnies of rapid editing

Or a shelf of family-owned disabled
Care-taking mutton cursers, say

Quartering meat as if their own
Survival of the meteor shower is so clean

Let’s murmur to our calves, well, I guess
          I’d eat you
                    If the money were right