GOATGEIST [7]

GOATGEIST

She was sleeping. She saw
velvet wet nose, thicket
whiskers, wilted ears
move across her dark room.
Was there something for her

to remember him by? Had he
left her without a footnote,
a reminder of love, yarns?
Only a laced remainder: he
ate her shoes, grinding eyelets.

 

from GOAT lies down on Broadway. For more info see here.

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