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by Terry Brinkman



Shaking Eyes


Thrust a thrushes weeping tone

Double-light ruffian

Flesh falls off at his Death Bed

Burst quietly laughed chocked

She never stitched the rip in the gown

Rain-drops spat on his hungry coffin

Combs crust under-ground

Veiled black and blue sun

Tenement house we build little drop of dung

Poor old wretch of a deacon

His eyes opened wide as a gate




a line, (a short blue one)



Sleepy Whale 265


Hungry state of comparative ignorance

Assuming in her certain books

Certain pages to build what?

Ridicule lapse with what success

Misgiving driven instructions

Repeated with errors remembered

She dislikes an umbrella with rain

Quest’s parable, in a new light

Postexilic eminence their seekers

Such eminence ground pure truth

Aristotle pupae of a rabbinical




a line, (a short blue one)





aaHer pal wearing Opal Ball-dress to the Sky Bar

Elbow length ivory gloves was her glory

Tortoise shell to build improper overtures dormitory

Sleety Day, objectionable person playing guitar

She did no such thing in her car

Swelling claves in silk hose observatory

She dug her spurs to ground telegraphing the story

Approaching light of uncondensed Milky Way Stars

Her fine fellow Cat-o-nine-tails hungry door

Arcturus equinoxes discernible day-light glass

Unbuttoned her gauntlet violently left on floor

Case of the model farms for Christmas

Chastise him horse-whipping sore

The sand slowly stacks in the Hourglass




a line, (a blue one)


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