The Speaker Can’t Be in the Poem Today by Spencer Silverthorne

I am on the verge of watching a terrific blockbuster.

Direct your attention to the window. To some sinister expression of light. To lyric exposing the wild interiors of the insipid. Bark stripped from trunk, cast your eyes on the tender bleakness, insufficient thing-hood.

You had me when you said I was prone to invasion. I have fallen.

I just made a sandwich because the bread looks better crumbed and weaved into your beard. I just made a bird because your hand looked like it needed a pecking.

I want to erase your hand. Lilies will have their way of rearing their stinky corollas. As if to beckon.

I want you in my grasp because I am a low down body asleep under a diseased palm tree.

Spencer Silverthorne has work published in Assarcus, Pelican Bomb, and Apiary Magazine. He lives in New Orleans, LA.