Karyna McGlynn



SUBJECT: HOTTEST WEIGHT LOSS SECRET REVEALED

--a found poem from my inbox

! starlight or but battleground
crater may altar some
obstetric may gurgle

bertrand may it's petrol
grim on intolerant exploit,
transmittance !

try a shakespeare
or astrophysicist
or claudia in some botanist
woke in flirt, see the hoover

engineer in nightingale
graceful transceiver
molehill try !

fountainhead zone libretto.
ruffle on the expositor
see the byron, the italy

blend, but stepwise
bimonthly the laudanum, the alchemy
some carry ! or a petticoat's

epigrammatic discussion indistinct ! the logic
it's defendant some siege be but rummy
in schizophrenia see armor not.

it's formidable
some wakeful indolent
but inhuman sin calfskin

Update on site.
Update on site.








NEDDY THE NIX

Everywhere I look, his kleenex & voufas

        , his nastiness
        , his rangetop jhee cheese
        , his milky white Glacenal bottles
        , his lutso-pick-jam
        , his new-age Fangti
        , his globular winiab
        , his Maxwell House dkorun
That's my Neddy.
That's my Nix, he & his
uncontrollable tongue flicks
lecherous on my doorstep.
I met him during the Trirels,
trir stink of his explanations in my eye.
Les œufs and les ozadas: you know,
...running branma fanahmanah,
Brizhack Brizaerigsteed...
"Oh, oviaosee!" as he stepped on my toes,
fucked my perfect preppy lewprels & sat
in the seat behind me, agikeiding
and weilding a Sharpie.      T_geo failing,
I tried to see him-turned my head to spy
his gmitmitt face & his shoeless lutslo.
I swear, Asohaes are in order, a big banquet
to clebrate the removal of my roommate,
the helpless nixwiniab. Have I no shame?
"Quobadsveo?" he (flick, flick) asked.
"Badsveo," I said
"Quobadsveo now?" he asked with jhee on his face.
"Now, Neddy," I said
"Now, Nix."








ART HUT PILLBUG

Yo, pillbug pillaging
the art-hut tubs--

all you know's in the dough,
make me a doodle?

Three hooks on a wood plaque:
hat, HOME, thank you for not smoking.

Everything is wet here.
Nothing may be touched.

Have a button.
Paint a plate.

Mask, mea culpa, macramé owl--
do you miss yr mommy?

I do.
I glue.








IF YOU PEELED DOWN MY SEPAL

Whole    cleaved
sex    a segmented clove
if you
s-p-e-l-l-e-d     i-t     o-u-t
(the thrill!)    succinct clatter
of sexual certainty
erotic detritus     all over
your yard     tongue typed
in the air   hard curled

-a cock there
-a question mark?
only my body resolves
an honesty    clings for once
where we've boiled off
the ice quips the clever nips
and said: to the other    c'mere.








REFRAIN: WITH YOUR DICK BETWEEN MY LEGS

With your dick between my legs,

you ask: what up?
:|
you ask me a pointed question
but it's too hard to answer.
:|
you don't breathe.
You're like this stiff I saw at a funeral once
(he had on orange eye shadow and I went,
like, totally necro for about three seconds).
:|
you feel lucky, but, no; it's more than that.
You are a commuter with the right of way;
your finger flicks through morning radio
as you suck the whip off a giant mocha.
:|
you've got a big head.
You flare your nostrils and smile fatly.
:|
you secretly hum the theme from Shaft.
:|
a vein in your forehead pops and the whole room
smells like canaries as the aneurism comes
all over your face.







e-mail the poet at karyna@umich.edu
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