a stout bottle of wine
and the box
with hibiscus stains
and an earthy scent
strung into its surface
poetry books
stacked in
beautifully disordered patterns
like a windmill
of my literature
peppermint tea
in ceramic coffee
tally marks on
cotton screens
paint streaming down
rich trees
and choking from the soft prose
YOU ARE READING
Inkmouth
Poetryin the plethora of pornography options for the modern saint [Poetry #51] [2015]
