12 Short Poems

Michael Gottlieb


this is what it means when the trusties are the only survivors the inclination to answer the call, though it is clear who waits on the line, and why a kind of holiday duty, cobbled together, the unheeded, subtly deformed reservations, all for the lack of a cogent dress code it is a feat of combination, like something out of the patent wars, unauthorized unreelings, unfair The bends, the great chicanes, the rousting, the majority partner, the paving beetle resting there, unattended, happening upon the adulterated ruins, the cram-down phase, what got ground into the broadloom divots flying everywhere, understandably swotting and ginning, taken in trade we've done enough, now it's your turn         next