September 19-25, 2005: Stephen Kopel and Alison Leaf

Stephen Kopel and Alison Leaf

Malta Beajolais exhausted beside Gamay, his label peeled, torn, exposing a sleek underbelly, luxuriant, yet, chilly, not unlike her latest platter of salmon jelly fishing for compliments after corks popped up unexpectedly infatuated with a rustic bouquet, quite possibly, Iberian, half-buried on tongues tired of licking their chops trumpeter, plastered, takes a swan dive aboard a shipwreck casks barreling out of the hold unions attach to ports horns ahonking, medicated mates materialize on the crane’s steel brow spilling Astaspumante down funnels whose necks never knew a gag from a gaggle double edge stares in the mirror bear my weight reflecting reduced calories jumping on bandwagons one cornet at a time risers, up early in a descending spiral, take one step back having forgotten to ask Simon’s permission even Ms Copper, the perfect conductor, forgets her downbeat at one wagon gains momentum .close shave as I pick up pieces of music razor thin, yet, tuneful maxilla .for Marvin R Hiemstra ingratiate fried chicken steak stuck on Trevor’s tee, potatoes, mashed, resembling February’s slushy snow,  even peas pleased to be billeted on a gravy train, while garlic, so galant, makes room for marshmallows when duodenum threatens to back up; in the barking lot, Aunt Acid threw up her hands when a pomeranian leaped for her Nipples of Venus scooped up by nimble Cellophane Rapper and, ducking to avoid the roof of his mouth, syllables boogie saliva’s surf shushing past reticent Port Wisdom to the loquacious Canine Coast

odalisque in private room, he draws a lustre glaze my air his arms a fine art in aerial swoon hands, fully rigged wandering a flume unhinge me here n’ here moor between my piano bone illapse unstrung sighs a plume in willow tune Instructions for waking a sleep – Lay beside the sleep and connect to the rhythm of it’s curl – Gently loosen the luna-layers with steam from a cup of tea (The smell of cooked breakfast would do it too) – Unpick the end of the silken sleep thread (This can usually be found beside the ear, at the nape of the neck or behind the knee) – Link the sleep to a draw-breath spool and begin reeling, in a spiralling motion – Pull the sleep with slow and smooth strokes (And the occasional Cole Porter song) – Fold the sleep into a morning (Be careful that the spirit does not get dispersed) – Watch it unfurl into a magnificent day. Polished her fluent toes talk a suasive red the color of full pleasure As far as she knows And he thinks about frequently at inconvenient times of the day uncooked raw see saw in me not covered or coated rare me naked nectar collector nude be more in me peeled and plump and drunk on tap sap