Andrew Wells

 

this game is to misread the preposition on the right line at the right time

 

lest
for toil I lost
or left
in mud

,

a mad uni
guy down

,

dw

,

young
lungs as ever
sung
several
muddy pains
to put my sod

,

I
(maddens, soddens)
am so done
mud take me daunted

,

like pigeon
a vine specific enough

say no by cold

 

 


 

finales

geology 101 is a bus on which left handed was i seen or sent to boston to kill my cobwebs in a tub of choosing none of which was sufficient in floor space to be eerie or ear before gabriel walks into the room thunder of a bus to be soundtrack of to be in dire straits a commie spy too derivative of spidery many camp fires between first + firs let bid great handwriting jealousy in the interest of nuns callouses visible me and to me like cars and penises and guitars do make top personalities very meaning full of i mean marbles there’s a campfire in my marbles to kill my cobwebs is to say i have killed every kind of thing short of the worst of us

 

 


Andrew Wells‘ work has appeared in Amberflora, 3:AM Magazine, Minor Literature(s), Poetry Wales, Fanzine, and others. His first pamphlet was J/W/U (PYRAMID, 2016) and his next will be Sealed (Hesterglock, 2020). He is co-editor of HVTN Press.


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