Gus Flaubert’s Blues

“There’s another flaw in that “best-case”

death scenario I was describing”

Things, I mailed myself in a dream, dream – All
practical worlds fall out, struck – It’s an irregular
case – Investigate the threshold

Your thumbs administer the violence of
the letter, industry of words’ doing,
and police hands drag coward affect away

It’s a fathomless strait – A killer feels
deserted – A killer dares winds imaginary
across the closed buds of flowers and interested

thought rewritten as a letter ducks theodicy,
bucks the crime, intent on the scene: Think thatch-
mattressed bed in postures of beginning –

Think clot-blooded Sybil of death increasing –
Think insulting films – spilled ink, weapons – think
anything – It’s an irregular case –

Softly go the razored bones of the dead,
ill sung, fixing amorous theses –

Thumb decidedly.