RAY SUCCRE : Sick and Selling Gems
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TRINA STOLEC : Mixed
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Sick and Selling Gems 040POEMQ2 Mixed  
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RAY SUCCRE
Sick and Selling Gems
The witnessed cough is milk and mucous covered. He coughs again, clears. "Uh, the amethyst I gathered near a quarry inó" Upheaval. Eruption. With mumbling crumples of the tissue, he straps his hands to his sides, pauses, then more deep coughing. That packs their worries, the women who wait. He clears his throat, a heap of baking cornfields lifted, or putrefying steppe-land entrancing up a deadly spark. The tensed veins lob and bristle slow, and damn the pulses with a nude scrape; disease has colted its hoof-kick run, and turned a latch down his throat. "Excuse me. Uh, the amethyst. I found it near..." His cough subsides, the air is clear, and the wolf-breasted ladies before his table harden as the very crystals they finger. Again, they consent to draw the air, but leaning off.
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Sick and Selling Gems 040POEMQ2 Mixed  
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TRINA STOLEC
Mixed
His love was white. The color of purity, innocence, a lace veil, a blinding snowstorm with no dirt peeking through. My love was red. The color of the heart, Chrysler Imperial Rose, hot coals in a beach bonfire, slickened bathroom tile when gaping wrists pump. Red and white mix to dull, tainted pink. I made him leave.
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You Take Advantage of My Good Mood TOP  Sick and Selling Gems©  RAY SUCCRE, an Oregon poet, sends us a poem reminescent of "The Pill and the Spring Hill Mine Diaster" of 1960's fame.
040POEMQ2 MID   040POEM2 ©  advert., reviewer  .comment2
Mixed] BTM  Mixed ©  TRINA STOLEC  . from poetryrepairs v01.04:040.