sensual cylindrical woman
wrapped tight in winterfresh fishnets
you domestic elongated donut
tail twisting tucked and
touching the hot socket
sapping electric life into
boomers and tweeters sliding
electron signal fingers on
copper coils pinching mics that
long for a loving “Hey, Siri”
Peeling back mountain’s powdered skin and tossing its infinite molecular extras aside, I, lost in the moment but sure of my path, am nudged gently by a billowy blow of wind just enough to fall into conversation with gravity. I, now lost in my path and so sure of the moment, involuntarily engrave my ass cheeks a meter deep in the silent madness of snow-cover.
The piste panders far above to the stimulus of hard plastics pleasuring it—an alpine love scratch, an exchange of precisely random scrapes. And that’s just how I feel, so precisely, acutely, exactly planted in the serenely chaotic emptiness of the off-path. I am really dug thick into it. Thick into a place not meant to be a place and a place I do not intend to be. A place intended for me. I hoist up and lean forward into nothing, hoping to rejoin with that something of the piste where sure path meets abandon at mountain rim and it doesn’t matter how whatever cascaded cascaded there, to that end.
A brief recollection of swerving off a ski slope in the Austrian Alps. Transcribed from notes taken during a workshop at Writing Retreat Bali.
distilled and aged, a pen tip tongue prick kiss claws
crushed dandelion light treads through sallow bourbon glass
a fingerprint tick type taps hollow word through the wall
splinter boards brace worn-out window shades through which I saw
dust breaking sun beams searing ink-blot hymnal wit such mass
distilled and aged, a pen tip tongue prick kiss claws
leather-lick dull scrape taste hit blood stream gall
tree knot stomach pirouette point twist barre class
a fingerprint tick type taps hollow word through the wall
lil fur boy whisker-wackin lip smack cracker crumb in maw
Miss Milly pew-hop pastel red shoe drop clack bump ass
distilled and aged, a pen tip tongue prick kiss claws
sof rat scurry cross hot wood slat sun cut prism light raw
rainbow stain rub cheek ain’t got but a stub beak that lass
a fingerprint tick type taps hollow word through the wall
an I paint smile on Milly bell toll belly roll bird caw
sallow bourbon quick smooch tip toe trickle sweat sass
distilled and aged, a pen tip tongue prick kiss claws
a fingerprint tick type taps hollow word through the wall
A villanelle written c. spring 2018.
poetry
April Littrell