Monstera

Skim rote letters
off glassy water.
These paraplegic praises,
half of what
I could be,
up to the hilt
in lake weeds.

Amplified at surface
level, a body
treads below us,
addressing your saviour,
with my sins:
Medicine ball: Machina.
Salt lamp: Aurora.
Tyrannosaurus rex: Anima.
Doughnut holes: Manga.
Automatic flash: Camera.
On the dock
of the Archipelago:
Monstera.
=>

Skim rote letters off your trip.
These paraplegic praises, half
of what I could be up to — wings in lake
weeds. Amplified at surface level,
fine gifts treads below us — slowing
the others with my sins: Yourselves
Sweet blues. Iron Movement. Jars
Anima. A spot miles — What — perhaps? Nothing.
Someone’s on the dock of the Archipelago:
Fences and poles.

Kurt Duran

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