Bad Eggs

This is a mimetic of the style of Eileen Myles. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/eileen-myles


Bad Eggs

underover

         dorsal

         pressure

i was one to talk,

                to scream,

                silence 

between the rain 

midnight emptying my coffee cup 

yours is over

                      on the furnace,

                                there   there

there                    there

                     there           

      there

  there 

boy i didn’t 

           see

          this coming

and all

it was two 

                                  in the

afternoon

deepening

                 moonlight grip

                to stampede

(a grand collection

            sentience 

sickening into the

green

   floorboards

            poppies

fleshing up

       three at a time

hungry for the 

            lecture to commence

                     tons of it 

purple

                to rage

mornings                  comely with those

     four thistled       roses

frame 

plump cheeks

                to cajole

   leaving like that

                             and everything 

                       shredded sunlight

of cosmic ellipsoides)

                to end

the evening,

   we             dance

        nakedly

crimson shimmering

              dripping 

              emblazoned

       filled to the brim

eating

       chocolate hearts

I told you,

yestereday

               to beat

you look so pretty,

                   there,

              frying

  bird eggs

noonday sun

     falling towards

the eternal 

             stars