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potatoes roasted in bacon grease make the small vessel warm and close and erotic

Posted byZakMay 30, 2021August 15, 2023Posted inPoetry

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Posted byZakMay 30, 2021August 15, 2023Posted inPoetry

Published by Zak

poetry of place. words in service of the wordless. View more posts

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it’s a minus tide so the home expectorates most of its inhabitants into the saline dream of pools, briefly abandoned
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the harbor is slick with oil just as the stiff plastic sheeting around the cockpit of this sailboat is slick with cloud. ruinous oh ruin, i stay dry in a dream forest of rain
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