This is a first draft of a collaboration I did with a good friend and talented poet, Brian Dickson.
Her laughter rings
her limbs hang loosely
from the Coup Deville her jovial face
puffing on a large cigar, a swell of smoke rising
let it fall like a flat tire
Lay – Z – Boy in a wheat field
comfort clouded in a lonely dust of chaff
swirling in dusk
the soft clink of chaff
dust clings
to echoes
like branches on the side of a jagged bluff
she bluffed the clear day in her pocket
gray on black, outlines of her figure
have a rigid language
immersed into the foreground
laughing at the lilies blown sideways,
bent east
the sky rings out with bells of flowers
stung by the horizon
rising, rising into the sun
7 comments:
Really, really like this. Seamless with amazing imagery, my favourite the tire smoke!
great poem- these are my fav lines-
from the Coup Deville her jovial face
puffing on a large cigar, a swell of smoke rising
let it fall like a flat tire
Those are my favorite lines, too! Makes me want to write a poem about a cigar smokin' woman!
This poem puts me smack dab in the middle of the South, especially with
Lay – Z – Boy in a wheat field.
You two have a great connection to your writing, with both sound and images. You are in the same groove.
This is so great! I'd really like to know how you did it.
Nathan-It was the exquisite corpse method.
I love the poem. Awesome images. I tried to pick out which lines I thought were yours, but they all work together so well, I wasn't sure. You two make a great team. Beautiful poem!
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