Me; Orator

Tell me, stranger

–  your eye amplifies me –

Are my words away though,     as I hear them?

blown out      damp as the night air.

 

It’s owned in my brain; tight

until I speak             and ooze.

An ear of mine cranes, in exile – a dog.

It can     not    near    the master’s voice

 

that creeps    and climbs    and peaks

at the white hair of your temple.

Mutant

I sit; a nut,

turn in my shell,

eyes in backward.

 

Dig a wee self;

forage in the glen

of fine, crude cells.

 

I’m pressed.

Ears in the ocean

seize…

a mutinous song.

 

Feb 23 2017