from More
David Wolf
the yolk spreads aiming for Arcadia
how mauled the nerves
how molded the odds
the edges roam
*
roam and spread more at onset reverie’s oeuvre
sedge-work engages a gooey droop to the eclogue
soldier on doddering deeds onetime cure-all
dead-end eminence dustbin lit off-kilter
along the molten path
song’s ebbing grind to each verve
rushed end to never
turn the dial inward evening loams
an urge ajar meandering
adagio’s inner durst-while affluence at cost
or roasty amble
a mimed ire and ache take aim
done as Eden rare as past saying’s helix
knuckled under lilt of yesteryear fuzz
furrowed heel-clack of a claim to rumble a sanding
down evermore to thwap surety’s call
check the clog roving
*
why the calendar has not been flipped
mid-month following
a silent sputtering of dregs
scattered assortment of return grit flexing
in the springs an opening numinous
as more after-hours blight
gathering to see what’s what
round the birdbath in it now and the flapping
flip-out
heat rising in the rose
honk with an urge to dip into found prestos
sure then nethering rusefusal
*
mysterious overlay
in the darting haze in the hint’s glare
josh jostle and heft of the iron mood
future’s slow build out outbuildings outhouse and all
land sorted as the sour
in the libation retrofits waltz beyond waltz
explain what again
exactly? origin of
just what’s to be said?
scabrous scalp placation’s sores barking
unhappy pulper
re-looped in the pan’s cramped rosin talk
of the lake-lapping orb
*
entertain the tannic wash through the mind
and eat wisely in the shine
the eye is sharp the shoulder bold
creaking as you reach
an eerie corner of the acre
rudely plush set years in the folds
a doff of the axed hat eased
sullied erasure slick’s rock recessed ire
iridescent core clicks
rustic-dour a distance
*
accessing the ford at the affordable hour
the edible draft
a type of hype exits evenly dutiful curtains
an item or two buzzing like a warped lyre
ever fond of dusk’s rusty axle
fuzzy twins
sinewy surf
synced inwardly numb to the etching writ
yule-swigged this urge
a rush to futz about
David Wolf is the author of six collections of poetry, Open Season, The Moment Forever, Sablier I, Sablier II, Visions (with artist David Richmond), and Weir (a micro-chapbook from Origami Poems Project). His work has appeared in numerous literary magazines and journals, including BlazeVOX, Cleaver Magazine, dadakuku, decomp, E·ratio, Exacting Clam, Indefinite Space, Lotus-eater Magazine, New York Quarterly, Otoliths, River Styx Magazine, Transom, and Utriculi. He is a professor emeritus of English at Simpson College and serves as the poetry editor for Janus Head: Journal of Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature, Continental Philosophy, Phenomenological Psychology, and the Arts.