Heather Brinkman
Four Poems
v v v
Santo and Johnny
& all the boysAnd
Annthe pipe bottled penny cash
of addidago saltarelloand where our working hearts
have shamed usthey too
shall parturition,and all things forgotten
will again affray
e e e
bel canto: onyx marcato
or all of universe for youmy whorehouse your heart
a burning violet
r r r
the cordon has won
its preventions of our
worn love, so may the ruga
iris saccharify and dissolve
to the tripartite of yarrowthe mast of men a cozenage
here, there Ovolonow go and let me be that
on my own
m m m
Your Polish tits are far too much
for men and far too much for me
to rest withinI know the emasculate
sun will never again
rise on us with certitude,
“the glorious sunrise”
will never come