tim botta

 If you must e-mail me at work
 to set up a time to embosk
 ourselves, leave a solvent trail
 the big guys in the petrified rock
 can't trace, like a hammock of hemp,
 or carry a flask on the tram.
 You're better off texting me things
 with your musk to baffle the hounds.

 Now that Quasar Estrus loves me,
 I've no [content] left, just locker
 frolic and her overnight friend
 who dyes the windows, and cracks
 a bottle of Bombay Sapphire
 and an orange Sappho (mask marker).
 Silvery finish and etch crutch.
 Who brought me these sweet striations.


 Scrap gold: lemonade whiskers: my
 drinking buddy scrapes a book of
 hexes, and a cloth limelight kit,
 when at the converted airship
 we arrayed these calcium cards
 diabolical. The Pseudo-
 Scorpio, lemniscate skater,
 moon glob, gall, the red vinyl boots.


«±  ±»

tim botta lives in North Carolina. His work has appeared in alice blue, MiPOesias, word for/word, and zafusy.




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