Ehm

I glide and love you, up to your
toes. I’ll eat you and kill you.

I see green windows. I ironed
moths. I restore graves

to life. Your tongue, with the snow.
In cascade. Look, the eyes are

mantras. You’re sculpture
coagulating. Then,

in the lake, I can swim butterfly
stroke and set a record.

You wind around me. You wind
around you. The rain falls, too,

and I see the sun. And even when
the sun shines, I see the sun.  

   Contributor’s notes: Tomaž Šalamun
   Contributor’s notes: Michael Thomas Taren

    Concerning the Denouncement
    Cupolas
    Ehm
    Hostage’s Poem
    The Leopard Doesn’t Squat

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