Micro aggressions rise blank to ascension: ur-cut,
savage, to omit the dupe—(re)emerges to femme
a skin of guts an oblique attraction. Earl Shoepeg
sucks Eddy’s soul. Earl’s an Eddy rumpologist (‘st):
burned as impurity, agent of rapture in alchemy’s
concrete trellis: McEddy coins Earl. The televised
repulsed (s)form improvises vises of imp. Scranton
is the iron-scrappy of a wicked near future: ture, re,
rrrgrrl—pure skin of a song of girl hears only me.
My/our head: sheer paralysis: imps of consensus.
Eddy is far afield. The serious of piss and norms.
Beauty of bone. No wonder/wander. He passes
gaunt, love a miner from to mine her/him after
to love cum Earl’s logic washes a duck’s glee.
Eddy courts danger: evangelical rabbi, traced in impurity
and flavor—cereal grains of taters and lips or mid-sugars
and fruits. Eddy jones for a revenge move, not mix-mixed
or served chilled. Eddy’s poems are grafts of intent: instant
allegation, distilled and postfix of a she-jen called gorzałka
(from the Old Polishgorzeć as to burn), merchant cleanse
to storm the grain, dilutes water—glossed as to “rectify
corn-spirits” of the test. Stop staring at me romance/me.
How many meals in Poland are served? How are lights?
The acqua vitae of hear: bimber, brennvin, Eddy drinks
the new beat of increased purity. Beat down. Beat hip: ip,
it, me—me real, me high, it, when cease ceases to be it,
Eddy’s an horilka, lust awakened from rye breaking she
as steady he gropes a rural stint with orange pulverizer.
The Amanda of gerundive, non-finite as portandus,
is carried to futurity with the help of Lord Ray. Boxes
are the stables of transport, or simply, worthy to love
the golden mean of moderation. In light conversation,
the canon of closure cuts a thin Mandy with a Mickey
Finn. Before fat and happy, I hated the grope. Chloral
Hydrate was a designer jean. They doctorated curves
in the renaissance of mental health. Eddy knew Manda
as a keeper of the priory, before nothing felt measure.
Now, Amanda ranks in the name: Milly-Molly-Mandy.
Mandy’s shema heard handy in oz of night, late dark
because the emerald is drank to expose a mere behind
the curtain of return. Farce plays manner. Farce kicks
a goat-girl escaping the flock. Among an only left to.
About the Poet:
Daniel Y. Harris is the author of The Underworld of Lesser Degrees (NYQ Books, 2015) Esophagus Writ (with Rupert M. Loydell, The Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2014), Hyperlinks of Anxiety (Cervena Barva Press, 2013), The New Arcana (with John Amen, NYQ Books, 2012), Paul Celan and the Messiah’s Broken Levered Tongue (with Adam Shechter, Cervena Barva Press, 2010; picked by The Jewish Forward as one of the 5 most important Jewish poetry books of 2010) and Unio Mystica (Cross-Cultural Communications, 2009). Some of his poetry, experimental writing, art, and essays have been published in BlazeVOX, Denver Quarterly, European Judaism, Exquisite Corpse, The New York Quarterly, In Posse Review, The Pedestal Magazine, Poetry Magazine.com and Poetry Salzburg Review. He is the President of the Board of Directors of The New York Quarterly Foundation. His website is www.danielyharris.com.