Shane Plante

some quite lapses




Brush away the parenthetical webbing. Wedge of citrus, ginger on the rust. The morning
stars, calcified. Swing on a preposition. Distorted half-steps to punctuate. Truncated
stanzas, italicized grace. Crustaceans, rocks, stars, all.




The doctor left the instrument inside. An invasion of patience. Obfuscate intentions. A
lapse in oxide. Wings do collapse or blaspheme. Spin the dial to ‘Clarity.’




Shuffle pretensions to disguise them. Open with the three of beaks. Circle their walnuts,
clip their hedges. Eleven toes is progress. The snail believes in movement. Slow to your
bellybutton. We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it. Kiss geometry goodbye.




Mittens fumbling to sap the maple. Treat the Bible like an accordion. Watch thine ass. A
thousand plump miles. Interrogate the cattle. Everybody was kung fu smurfing.




The feminine figment, weighted just to the left. Content with the wreckage. Dining alone
tonight in a city of loggers. The architecture of lambs. Source: Palace of Artificial Limbs.
This is all the proof required. Slow it done.




Our umbrellas become concave in the wind. The pianist’s perm versus the shape of her
stool. One hand always dominates. Phoenician on the baby grand. As we began, with
letters. Letters spell our motions. Sent her a love ladder. The famous scene with Romeo
under her baloney.




Variations on a phoneme. Evolution, do your thing. Swear on a tin star. Double suns,
twin grievances. Numbering trenches with sighs. A mouth full of cuss. Lofty to stay,
fallen so soft. The nurture of things. Finderella wore a glass flipper.




Singe the roof with crows. The tortoise twice reproved. Royal syntax: a string of shills. Sentences as culs-de-sac. Once again: you have taken equations for presents.




Invert it for the comma‘s trophy. Pause at the filament. Punctuation as ligament.




The minister’s a ‘real straight shooter.’ Nice double attendre. Separate the saddle from its
horse. Some semblance required. Simply put, I am roasting selfish tonight.




Self-perfective ghostures. A lovely ruse so desired. The likelihood of bruises and snow
drifts. A life in 4/4 time. The heart, a vital metronome.




Let it summer on the backburner. Twinkletoes in a cockleshell. A static interpreter.
Statistics of chroma. The emperor has no change of clothes. A taste for invisibility.




Pluck the blushing flowers. How the Western was won. Those boys got an avuncular
vernacular. Surprise the petals.



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