protuberance

thought it would sound more like Bukowski
instead it continues to sound like me

even in my underwear my voice sounds written
and in the moment free before I start looking
for scraps of paper or an organised system of papers
to capture some of whatever that was that just happened
in my skull or another place sensationally analogous to it,
I remember salient details of the field of cultural production

call and response
a rapper’s foil
being there when it began
small delights in kudos trade winds
unexpected emergence

//ends

>> month of poetry 2012