harder perhaps than a newengland bed

harder perhaps than a newengland bed

these ends of arms which pinch that purple book
between what hands had been before they died

squirming:now withered and unself her gnarled
vomits a rock of mindscream into life;
possibly darker than a spinster’s heart

my voice feels who inquires is your cough
better today?nn-nn went head face goes

(if how begins a pillow’s green means face

or why a quilt’s pink stops might equal head).
Then with the splendor of an angel’s fart

came one trembling out of huge each eye look
“thank you”’ nicely the lady’s small grin said
(with more simplicity than makes a world)