Posted tagged ‘Surreal poem’


September 11, 2015



She had lips in her palms
and, as a result,
could not speak and do at once, and neither
very well,
and whenever she held hands with anyone,
they thought hers clammy
or kissing,
until sick of it,
she excised the lips,
stick too.

But then her palms held only
peeled throats (winnowing to wrists),
that, though speechless, gagged
so raucously, that she held her hands
to her sides at all times thereafter,
often as fists.


A poem of sorts in 80 words for Mama Zen’s prompt Words Count based on a film (Le Sang d’un Poete) by Jean Cocteau.