One or Two Ghosts for One or Two Lines

 
 

Tan Lin

 

   
tall blank zebras appear

 
              A
To care. The aerogramme made a lily of necessity,
stumped box, redolence ribboned far off in the glass
cities I opened and closed to the dandy
drawers. A colt emerged on a clotted pansy. A pan
required fanning. This repose a thread files.
Inside the spitting rope sweeps
like a foppish knot or lighthouse,
a beam where the sun withers like snow
in its box of jewels. Like a towel-like now.

 

tiny broom zippers boxed

 
               Z
Light as a ruler, I knitted the whiffing train to coverlet.
Dark, I had my lips. They travel apart when I kiss.
Exonerated groove. The captioned stock box
waved to the master's bedroom.
Clacked suds. All flaking tide and shout
was music walking out a headlamp.
Engined isthmus, emerged track of levels, it could be
nice. The pubescent birdie sleeps
in a closed head. So,
it knows or it knows.
A crumb held out a mighty
citron in a beak, screwed backwards.
But no ox sniffled to an owl
or stockinged box strum through bedroom.