Jacob Fortino
Lot swife atomized physically her heart atomized in a genre objected to an object these poems Green disappear in verde disappear in the salt paper mimic physicals dear pillar season the air these fauvist movements your motion shouldn’t taste so good a tongue cut out doesn’t make its cry louder I hate the phrase “the silence is deafening” Jumbo shrimp sounds better you feel blocked silent? Jumbo shrimp jumbo shrimp, loud? Silent? Where do I carry them? How do I say I can’t speak Italian? Nothing good to say not sick the smells are there plenty of good things will be said. Do I lack an adenoid good enough to serve with gravy and onions? Quiet no-narratives are getting me no where. Salt pillar chest pain. Webmd says not much time with a cough. I am not blocked, blocking implies a neural erection, I am not erect, erection implies a motive to stand, if I stand will there still be lights on in the building where I’ve said too much? Questions form the grains on this erect salt pillar erected ideas that have no throat to yell from no, a salt pillar must embrace their husband, it cuts in the skin salt pillar cuts in the skin erect a lack of ideas I’ll gladly fuck the hole in my brain that can’t think of narrative structure release its activity to plant posies or a cornucopia for some thanksgiving fireworks factory fuck-a-thon. And we’ll take a break, toyotathon is on. Don’t confuse the cock throb veins for brain activity, I, this straight man poetics cuckhold can’t close his eyes a no name paycheck burns like good cinnamon. Jumbo shrimp. Served with good adenoids and limp unfuckable onions. No narrative to appreciate a bad simmer, boils like heavy cream, silent salts suck on the scraps of the overrated beats, deaf to the howl from New Yor k mimicry and beastmen flavor no cries on erect no-narrative Italian tongues or my tongue? Cut my half Italian half tongue in veiny tastes to be submissive on what was columbus day lie on my back to watch the santa maria stain my mole skin and concuss my salt pillar blood stream. Cavazzo, northern Italian pig fucker, nuovo fascista, bella ciao to the chrysanthemums that grow above your grave Rot.