Freak Variations
when we drowned
the poem
in silt and spit,
it turned
the color of burnt
polenta,
sounded like a pan
deglazing,
olive oil sighs
in suicide leaps.
we said something
toothless, like:
“the world makes milk
from the stones
it slaughters”
and thought it an alibi.
by afternoon, we were
furious as gnats sitting
cross-legged on a bookshelf,
noosed between
spasm and salute
a couple of tantric bozos
with nothing in our bellies
but a nylon whinge,
freak variations
on a busted guitar.
the poem
in silt and spit,
it turned
the color of burnt
polenta,
sounded like a pan
deglazing,
olive oil sighs
in suicide leaps.
we said something
toothless, like:
“the world makes milk
from the stones
it slaughters”
and thought it an alibi.
by afternoon, we were
furious as gnats sitting
cross-legged on a bookshelf,
noosed between
spasm and salute
a couple of tantric bozos
with nothing in our bellies
but a nylon whinge,
freak variations
on a busted guitar.
Dominick Knowles is a queer poet and Ph.D. student in English at Brandeis University. Their areas of study include modernist literature, Marxist critique, and the poetry of the radical Left. Their essays have appeared in Viewpoint Magazine & Modernism/modernity Print Plus; their poems have appeared in several independent publications.