Acupuncture By Charlotte Reed - Get a Free Blog

Absent Without Leave
By Sam Shleifer
Before the blonde horseman rode into our village,
Megan fi xed me scones
London sent him North,
to fi nd expired uniforms
before business hours.
Monday at 9, I gutted her husky.
Th e pancreas popped methane,
smelled wetter than licking
or trading a trench at Verdon
for a French jew’s tulip wagon.
Th e third month of toast,
I burlapped the vestiges,
sulfur rottings prickling
like nerve gas.
Ever valiant master trailing,
I tied my sack to his mount.
Megan didn’t recognize the scent.
magus ~ 23 ~ mabus