Saturday, 27 May 2017

Wölf by Edwin Caudill (art) and Fusiform Gyrus (text)


Let me write Candide
across your spine
for the animals

the sun is out
of breath brazen
pommery the sun is

dead internet spake 
her hard tanned 
belly brushing swiftly 

past polyester expanse 
Soffria abseiling naked 
down a scaffold of her face

put the 
ö in Wölf
her wind-gnarled points
salute the feat


peeling back a strip
of prosthetic skin unveils 

slick lissom quem

salve folds thumbed 
reveal some white thing
half-hidden gawking back 

crack lidded eye-form 
below pergola nub sculpt'
rendered by retopology

the sun is futile cardiography
the pupil darts erratically then 

fixes panoptic nerves tethered

reaching to the fleshy toggle 

pulsing occucervic periscope
buried to avert a 


No comments:

Post a Comment