2009 -- 2.1 (Fall) Poetry

neutrally, our fresh hot teas both flushed light gold

neutrally, our fresh hot teas both flushed light gold
hours previously. More recently we

clawed earnestly as lamsters from the heat, then
built up, or razed a few statues of trust

the components of which include vague sorts of zen.

It is an ignoble honor to know your nadir
and sap up your dulcetest moans as I can,
denying no natures which plague us. I penned
you a poem about Lovers, it was panned
by intoxication and indifference.

But you please me, I think, and when offered more drink
you accepted with slippery, rose gaucherie

Not bound by heuristic, nor wounded by pride
In this way, the mawkishly wideeyed entreat