JUN K. LEE
The Rusty Toque | Issue 10 | Poetry | June 30, 2016
FORMING
it’s easy to see you’re not why we incorrect; it’s a wonder
fit together like people a glade: and graves a grove that’s two to see the face, mine isn’t, the transparent – and I don’t think I hope – face of yours is the other either: it’s a briar we’ll paw through the I could thicket to swim for days through find out each other, quarks, quirks, though endless and all other matter well, we have plenty I won’t of days tire easily in transit to stroke, and paw, to the maybe paddle farthest pinhole in you where from: a barren, how did a coven, you guess these perfect
a whale’s husk, or sinkholes for sacrificial pit perfect pitched timely arrivals what shape: does your formations, they’re likings or growing in the shape leanings take; I see you saw; my own for us they happen who made: one lone how can set of birds in twos sound two or two sets like one of one without breaking the ear why ask: it’s important climb and to know clamber to the crux: the tree’s true state you’ll see of decay something nearly, almost, not-quite let’s laugh in the Priam, pram; manner of Darius, dairymaid; son of
the kings of elder god, dog’s ways, together sun; is it funny I stand a stork, you are a laughable so fool-like; still making fellow, a light rictus, these peels am I unwrapped to make free free, we can shed caught, by these furs no coincidence we loiter and skins, let’s tear in each our musculature other’s tents and triangles I’ve spent it, in what will you; you this change in parts have it, the orb: designed to the shimmer shift into each other that’s the terror – real twinning, twining; or no – tuning, turning; aren’t those
that’s engendered by coupling: the reasons some simulacra we bent to bridge this ideal: the twin, asking now the mirror-made, may be a question are we sure we far-flung into wanted this the past, its pasture which blessings free us, do we whose psalms; need to, since one are these curses, are sole pheasant they jinx-shaped is the smallest target but now one can’t dignified bear, see itself: your bearing; sprinting cat, woman-witch one makes choices; catapult your man-mage cabin way to the freeway ERODINGmy mouth please make warps and they'll leave,
which witches they tussle pour out my hair let tongues your old clash, clashtongues face clatters run the all together day's duration like driftwood run then, I'd run feet to this fleet
crackle bird right to skulls, shatter a shore those ships it's better would drift to flounder into ice than be and disappear with you DISSOLVINGthese they grow crystals can't in
fit, caves, not won't merge men |
JUN K. LEE is a writer and visual artist living in Calgary, Alberta. He writes poetry, screenplays, writes/draws comics, and paints. His work has been published, exhibited, or screened throughout Canada and the US as well as internationally, including in Denmark, the UK, India, and Spain. He favours bears, trees, ecclesiastical hand gestures, and spells. His work can be found at www.leafshaped.com
