TED REES

FROM DOG DAY SCROLLS





UNPLACED HAYRIDE


notorious illumination

felony myth of felony

counting each rib

the coldest glass of water

tides of pleasure at next window


detasseling sensibility

hillock and colt

carcass as season for

tending to the snag's nuthatches


deep in pulp

fastened to the glottal of revulsion




HIBACHI OF THE CONSCIENCE

The moat between my feelings

and an ethics is an anti-convulsant I slowly drip down my own leg, fool reservoir, walls blanched and indeterminate,

own boulder knocking down from its heights

approaching my flesh impediment,

fingered yet splashy hibachi of the conscience, a stripmall in Dayton.



LIVE FACEDOWN

Feed this Funnydew melon

I found in an Ohio

geocache in 2006 to our friend over there.

We all agree we are into butter

in suspension, whirling fat as jadrools gleaning

all the following

belong to the bastard.




WRONG PUSTULE

How the chords are played


stupor on the rocks

at the national kiosk


fitting a gym-sock over

all things are full

boarded up well

prying as paradigm

as glass jutting slipper

tsuris dressed in skintight lycra

what is morning scree

drainage from the burn where we touched


passed around some Brut

splashing evidence encasing itself


monad whimpering

as I flip over the mattress




A KNOBBY


Delivery refused clafouti of my harbinger,

succulent herbs haptic at window.

Dare I falsify my homework,

stride up to the hangar jingling my keys and a Manwich reveal at my mouth's corners.

They laughed at us in the courtyard, cum in our hair. They's dead or chemtrails

that's what's sprayed, think of your dead wonder jet beyond so many.

TED REES is the author of Thanksgiving: a Poem (Golias 2020) and In Brazen Fontanelle Aflame (Timeless, Infinite Light 2018). He lives in West Philadelphia.