Deanna Ferguson

armed, said the man, I sling from Troy

saw Edith on her smothering depths delete the dying ground

oh yeah, shine up the cast Has Been

Twice in the dip to buff up her blood

the over-laboured Trojan starting now to groan

"Co-mates (co-mates?) For sure eh; trouble we 'ave got some before"

hell's run, a woe on the road of a shoe

might as well wear earth and whiskey and sky and sea

bare-need, or her folds up tangled in a knot

thus abstracted she sought to try her friends to share her flight, fly her light

"Gladly," said the porter, the boss, the full-balled sailor

"Enter creamed in it, covered in her moist strange mist and bare the pimple; beat the breast, begin 'O Has Been, my freckle found too foul. Pull off your ears and use a menu. Dyed in the blood over the whole wide world wide curse, shalom, schlep, grown in gold and legend story and tale.' "


Sigh, etherea, or moreover, idiot hills will hide the acid his mother prepares

crushed in a bush and every face contort

capped, and no the wit wiser for it

on gallows hope a prisoner leaned, learnt

yours a purple list of pus, what a sad response this brought

"Yah, yah, yah like fires?!!"

Such lying I can tell, my sinuses are art

all speed, no work. All roll, no wheel

on a ship bound for lunch at Fry Grotto for free!

and sneeze the keep. Wild anger thrusts on me

they ate their age, acted fiercer, and like wolves in a troop with glue

earned death, had death donned, but shuddered too

his slippers the length of day, his rear up the beast

his leant over, his house-gods wrapped in a tuumbra

so ended Edith's day; and what a bad one


Son, what boils your potatoes?

Butter out of reach, the aging out?

My feet, to his father said the boy

All long with burls and baked arches

My footprints back off where my too-close together eyes peruse

Light into wind, flight into dream

But my dogged, dog-eared, dog-goned hush puppies are dense out of fear

All alters raise shades to polyodorous fearfully

Father then loads up the old revolver

Bade us the recommensurate sea, reaches once more for it

Now, as I recall, he foretold our lot

A lot of pussy-piled cheats who feast on beer

"O curb, body, avert the curse. Alternate between hollowed-out and torn."

Enough weeping, long sobbed songs lobbed in vain


way way way over there lies a pathless road

with jaws out thrust (jaws?) pull up your rig on the rocks

wherever masses shiver and dodos are

on and off sailing off the cuffs

duly dutied to pawn the prophet's prime commune

and sullen night holds fast the clouded moon

and warm trembling beneath his flesh

and bent straining sweeps roar around a sea

so long, all me, my other, comforter


Fault her; I know the marks, the old blame

Hazing takes council from cheating hearts

To whom who hussied Venus, her mother's dildo, where could this stuff lead?

By rights she dies from earth, heaves for sway

Down to the darn damn warden who fucks her yet

Hung from his shoulders, which pleased that other sumptuous queen

Whose triennial orgies would stand and flower

And there I reached you, wrapped in names

Go, Sue, Pity, Disdain

Scared out of her shit boding fears fevered dreams

Spotted with garlands and funeral boughs


Who scared me? Tore out my side, named me down with steel?

Now I mourn from Syphilis's sat on bed

No love, no league between us, just me and my bones

she sees she sees how her handmaid sees

and stood below her


shift the sad jack, we need no more weak sung sweat

or flaunting of skill with spears or kissing up your shaft

to the countryside, where grey panties throng the beach

bend over my lash and shake the steam

even half the heart of a shark would be jealous to prod and plough

long live the loud shouts; all eagers urge the chase


We are the third rift from the sun

Below two gnostics down the lane, right by the polished gate of hell

Should you be the first to meet S-------, be reserved

Such an old asshole, on the fiery grass reclined

Withdraw your hand, or hand with hand co-mix, lead, and drag your weak knees from side to side

The pederast, his bird Alas! Sorrow ails to each


Two heads in a cauldron in the fire in a rain

An unrecovered day. Without return


O fatherlands! O house-gods all chimed in vain

"Butt out your hopes ya bum, tis you I own. Take a willing co-mate and play. The rest of you thwarts, go reproduce. This is in your realm and all you choose."

The soaring horns. Breezes below the ship low on the hip

Weeping and speaking, glueing and fleeing the reins

Turning into priestess of the grave

Flying disorderly on the colic winds

Beyond the strength and destiny of rage

All roads lead to the back, black eye the first piece of her

This our hero knew and he prayed

Played his trumpet through his ear

On the porch, hell's very throat

Fists ferried over or hands out splayed

Seized up, leastly, helm and plots lost

Though bored a lot, O great victorious men