Poems
by Terry Brinkman
Sleepy Whale 456
Gun-whale of her dads boat stuck in the mud last fall
Allowed his bowels to ease without compromising
Smelling fresh rag paper from Budapest
Still darkness in the brightness of the nurse
Shadow lay over her Purse
Bristles shining wirily infest
Her hat was left on the floor of the Hearse
Sleepy Whale 448
Ilk Horns Dragon Zodiac
Bluest Irish blue eyes Awe
Shell be back with cash
Limp as a wet rag look on her face
Pollenate paraphernalia trash
Alabaster white gulden poop embrace
Cotton polis exceedingly rash
Her navels jest totty grace
Sleepy Whale 455
Eager anticipation rising
Solemnities ironical pitfall
Hymns to heavenly noisy drawl
Murmuring waters harmonizing
Unmentionables scrutinizing
Shadow less morning philosophical crawl
Her boat stuck in the mud last fall
She allowed his bowels to ease without compromising
Sleepy Whale 457
Sun was nearing the steeple and still rising
Lighting of the intellects pitfall
Souls shame wounded by our sins drawl
Midnight and augurs rod of ash harmonizing
Shadow lay over the maid of the moon scrutinizing
Stench of foul flower water was compromising
Crossed legged smoking a coiled pipe in Budapest
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