Geof Huth ░ An Amphora

An Amphora

something about the day after yesterday

something about that
something about having had it before
something about not knowing what to do
something about carnivores
something about the sound sliding under the door
something about loss
something about adventure at a price
something about reality
something about the heaviness of gravity
something about desire
something about the mandragora, the mandrake, the root
something about hoping for something
something about something slipping through your fingers
something about paralysis
something about arcs
something about the seven deadly sins
something about the four horsemen of the apocalypse
something about Eve in Eden
something about carousing before dark
something about my words
something about the escape of breath
something about wind
something about the tension at the back of the neck
something about motion
something about stillness surrounded by movement
something about statuary
something about corner of the coffee table and the center of her forehead
something about coming
something about waking within a dream
something about whittling while whistling
something about sound
something about a hat
something about possessions over love
something about periwinkle in its three incarnations
something about blood
something about tears
something about garlic scapes
something about running
something about “verdant” and “abundant”
something about prepositions
something about extending a finger into a hole
something about wanting
something about leaving
something about the twelve stations of the crossed
something about running to the other side of the street
something about the Avenue of the Wicked
something about signs in time
something about neon
something about tropical fish
something about drowning
something about suffocating
something about hyperventilating
something about careening and careering
something about vertigo
something about living until the point of death
something about detachment
something about horses’ hooves
something about quicksilver
something about a three-inch sliver of wood in your foot for three months
something about coming
something about boredom
something about extravagance at the expense of certitude
something about institutions of higher thinking
something about belief
something about process and product
something about ponderousness
something about borax
something about desserts
something about wagon trains
something about dying
something about constantly forgetting to remember
something about losing your grip on it
something about a modicum of moderation in a medium mode
something about swirling and twirly
something about quaffing
something about zeroing in on the littlest bit
something about taking over
something about us

something about the day before tomorrow

ecr. l’inf

Posted by Geof Huth

from dbqp

Labels: anaphora poems