Sunday, April 24, 2011

a salivary film

she talked
in the darkness
ignoring the sounds
of the swirling saliva rush in her mind
complicating the rapid heartbeat
floating fluctuating eyes roll upwards.

dark sunlight danced through
the cracked windows
while he lay under the table
and laughed a spastic laugh
touching the 7th spot.

the blackened wooden floor
was warm under his back
and dim voices echoed “no”
echoes of “stop”
she was on top of him
quickly (an odor of guilt)
blackbirds screeching
brain bone creak/lights

She smiled when she saw the
backward flying cardinal
come to rest at
(a spasm).
--Peter Marra is in Williamsburg Brooklyn. His goal is to become an adjective. He has either been published in or has work forthcoming in Caper Literary Journal,, Yes Poetry, Maintenant 4 & 5, Beatnik, Crash, Danse Macabre, Clutching At Straws O Sweet Flowery Roses, Breadcrumb Scabs and Calliope Nerve. He is currently constructing his first collection of poems.

1 comment:

Leslie said...

I am beginning to know your voice. This piece is alluring and of course sensual. The images you create are generally tinged with a slight electric charge.