Two Poems


Stoma

The mouth, perhaps excreting sound like bone

through gums, pauses. Pause with it, the excretion

not the unpausable mouth, unpausable even when you

trouble it paused. The bone, sharp in places and 

dull most often, continues its movement. The bone singular mimics 

waste or water. It continues because you say so, voice 

prehensile in nature, authorial despite rumors to the contrary. Anyway

move backward now. Move and in the wrong direction.

What does move mean, what variety excretion? What color 

gums? Plaque, decay, diminishment. Dimensions. Pause to consider

lips an arbitration. Further backward now, some 

say, as sound distills. Finally. Arrived less than stumbled. The mouth

(unpausable) stops sound. Understand when you write mouth, you mean

guilt of perception, that oldest influenza, and when 

you write sound, you mean light. Where does it go? Does it traipse? That 

bathroom of light and sound shameful. One hears confusion, 

aria of an ammonia, antiseptic and further 

backward inconclusive. Sediment occurs in the between 

space, the plaque-colored bone, and you do not say anything 

anyone does not already know. Bore in this manner. Even 

yourself. (Of being sound) (mouth and body) (unsounded

both) (the same but) (how they stretch) (you) (you

no more than) (sound). At this point, sharpened against

pumice with its bleeds, mouth discovers a middle. Mouth perhaps

at that moment bleating. That scene in. Dramatic tension produced by someone 

inconsequential. Emotional conflict arrives in sound. The arrival, 

incontinent as ever, stirs passion. Refuse to define terms. Underneath,

prehensile in all senses, after middling as the unpausable mouth 

resumes. Backward to fuck with notions of time, though notions 

unheard to the unpausable and conceived by you, that 

paunch-shoulder, that tummy-footed, that. You wear a wristwatch and mouth. 

Disgusted they (sound and you) gaze and in the wrong direction. Low blood

pressure as production begins. Drink water through mouth, over bone, 

excrete excess. If properly hydrated expect a light coloring, almost 

opalescent in light. If unproperly. Almost unpausable and unproper, the mouth

directs. There is sea glass. There is always sea glass. There is 

something to be said for the sharp of sea glass against gums. Dull in places,

blood in others. Sound, when stretched around foreign object, 

mimics. Give us this day our daily mouth. Further backward still, camera 

tracking movement, you do not return to guilt 

despite its allure, its fingers and toes, its (necessarily incomplete). Sibilance 

an inside joke. The pastel shade as production continues 

backward. Anyway. What is there to say, really, about a mouth, gums, lips? 

You struggled to brush your teeth as a child. What a production assistant would call

today, perhaps, disease. What they (mouth and you) would stretch

ungainly around. What they would in the wrong direction. 


Some Varieties of Monster

Like mystery at Loch Ness, I conduct investigations into the David of it all. One piece of evidence borrowed, one blue, one confesses, one makes self-deprecating jokes. Bored already while paintings bleed. What else? Phlebotomy a decent career. I need sonar, a boat, $100,000 of cryptid-hunting equipment before ridges with distinct markings appear. They call for rigorous study in the summer. Long cat-legs of sunlight, enough witnesses to provide statistically significant data. Additional thirty-five millimeter cameras capture nothing: dead friends’ names in a phone. Facial tics. It’s Monday and I can’t afford eyebrows. Mirrors offer enjoyment over a lake and the small, sharp noise of vermin. We boil water, excitement turning to whiskers. We eat lunch. Results inconclusive. Doctors say spindle and appendage. What’s an appendage, I ask, using computerized enhancement to uncover


              (interlude on some other varieties of monster)

the tendency of sadness to consolidate consonant and process most 

knuckle tattoo safety pin, ink           no enemies but 

a minor internet celebrity named Mr. SuboxoneTM               no

enemies address the Jesus Chrysler in the room

abolish teeth abolish cars abolish time and space

when I die leave my body to the meek   


         animals that sound sinister like crow or Malaki.

Search 

court testimony: misdemeanor possession, delicate crown moulding, no jail. Later in the season, as heat goes viral, I find myself on the brink of a scientific name. Jimmy Buffet’s 1979 single “Fins” released two years after the Psychic Seven International strip and chant toward Nessie. A face in a camera at the Natural History Museum. Fossil records show I descend from asymptotic heroin addiction. World Wildlife Foundation eat your heart out. Matt taught me to take McDonald’s fries and dip them in McDonald’s shake. What pleasure. Matt hasn’t died though he might as well. I haven’t had a Big Mac in a long time. Heard that on TV and life now eats turkey thigh. Place a fish inside a fish. We report no further credible sightings of myself. 


Cover image: Loch Ness Monster: Sturgeon's photograph. A photograph that allegedly showed the Loch Ness monster, 1934. The image, known as the “surgeon's photograph,” was later revealed to be a hoax. Image sourced from Britannica.


David Greenspan

is a poet currently living in Michigan. He is the author of multiple books.

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Three Poems