Poems
by Terry
Brinkman
After the Return
Quickly we are all in after the return
Till it shuts tight over the yarn
Thanking his stars she a Yankee
She slammed the door so hard she broke her arm
Over external interest hanky
Slipper-slapper doodle right darn
Fear she looked lanky
Bruiser Fern
Upper cut brisk exchange concern?
Fistic eglantine time with the jig yell
Drenched with water and the bell
Clewed amid tense discern
Don’t knock her Portobello Bruiser Fern
Not curving his weight covered her with caramel
Quickly got in after her return
Till it shuts tight passed over the yarn
Sonnet CXXXVIV
Weak wasting sigil hand
Lace fringe shore of the tide
Clambering countryside
Tide sheeting the lows of sand
Cakey sand dough hillside
Dumbwaiter Door’s jock-eyed
Mahamanvantara commend
Blue dusk nightfall
Shattered dumbwaiter’s glass
Bullock-be-friending sigil crawl
Pouter-Perfect shore’s overpass
Pit in the groin Snow-fall
Temporary insanity mustache
Sonnet CCCLII
Wiped again his razor blade to write
Kind voice of a poor dog’s man
Looked gravely at his butchers pan
Hair striped grey looks spiffy in the light
Gold points Chrysostom’s shadow tan
Prelate patron of arts bigger than
Plump Moon with its Smokey Blue starlight
Towards her displeased and sleepy vain
The top of the staircase laughter
Plump shadowed sullen oval jowl insane
Silence awls low whistle rafter
Held bowl aloft and in tuned profane
Turned his gaze from the sea to ever after
