John M. Bennett



Renroc

lang pile swept into the corner sang

sleep shirts into the corner loop meat

craps into the corner swell thumb claps

into the corner slung mote drips until

the corner fork lint smiles into humped

corner dug fog sung into the border

glove wind dies into the corner seems hung

miles into the corner shorts whine

into the corner roast butt glazed lentil

the corner dime shadow cracks into uh

corner lip window cracked into the stormer

sot bowl brims into the corner stopped

You Shit

the muddy dirt loop before your

brow the gasp shover in your

puzzle muster FOG grease a tum

bler vaselined my specs I saw

you drooling  .apes and dollars the

drying pencils dropped into my soup

and all I cashed was clots  .framed

the numbers like a turd and smelt my

Tlazolteotl grunts beneath my chair  .you

skinned your teeth I mimed my s

wimming coprolite o precious foam  !)the

bloody shirt the mooted door the

growling when I asked for gloves...

my shuttered shirt

my c rash m

y “ándame”

who’ll hole

who’ll asp

me o who’ll

pull pull

sock blunt

joy heel

dry

dime

shoulder dink

my gak

rust betold

ram

chow linkk

salt chew

d.u.s.t of neck

the crash cow

the sot

the

limp the

the

Cave of Mouth

the dusty soup congeals the // wha

wallop ,shape “storm” ,supper cute

wasp nesty nigh my labp  .ichthyosaur

,shuddered mile ,met spoon with

single pea // lunched my eye  )habit(

song cancer gasoline the foamed

thinker the shirty moon the shitty

\\ face danker my whistled eye

writhey as the cloud comes down my

listened teeth reflect what starts

)“¡starts!”(

Raisinettes

You jiggled your leg across the seat

with the kernels in your cobb salad

smoking like a hotfoot dressed with

paperclips eating potatoe chips

held with tweezers

knitted without twine and

staped to the shoelace

in corners where ill-fitting raisinettes

were falling over your lips

John M. Bennett & Stacey Allam        2011