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(page 40 of 93)

Run Your Fingers
Poem by j. fisher
Previous (page 39)  |  Return to Contents  |  Next (page 41)

Run Your Fingers
Poem by j. fisher

(page 40 of 93)







Keywords: eleventh transmission, poetry, fiction, photography, visual art, spoken word, film, socially engaged,
political, human experience, writing, satire, photojournalism, activist art, activism, socially conscious, art

Run Your Fingers

by j. fisher

when she straightened her hair
the pearls off the bar lights
made her look like a God-thing.
that halo was as empty
as my pint glass
’cause I knew
she hadn’t a lick
of pigment
in her eyebrows
without the fashion
of the pencil.
I am a known Dualist.
I kneel
at the altar
of the pulled cork
and the perfect fruit, with only the
slightest touch
of feathery, lemon-yellow down.
i puked my reverent betrayal over the cat-box
as she worked out the score
of what my worship
was going to cost her.
never finger a liquid
you do not intend
to fully
ingest.


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