Pillow Talk

i. You are not Persian,
   this today is not earth

ii. I am of your sound
   the source and I am
   not any I am why

i.     The matter in itself
   is your sex; the matter
   is your sex

ii. And we are the sex
       and why; this is
   the sum: you are mine

 

Pi’ten

Torch front: at the water I
was cold; near the culvert
which from ran winter, I was

cold. About the lake. What
had thawed. Of the surface,
a glass; and I held a most

attractive woman whom like
cold at then did need no
    word for me.

 

Kore

I.

This now is no city, woman.

I have not felt your hand
on that piece of me most solid

since the empty restaurant
to your grip was scene author—

the aesthetic of smoke
   & foreplay, aye, with you

was a Metro of interest.

II.

I am thinking of wildflowers
over what now is no city.

You with a skipper stone.

You with on your mouth
mine mouth; your breast

in mine mouth.

III.

Do not again be distant.
My bruises are for you

a shape, for you a salt your
   tongue your blood

mine digits indulged what
is kore femme and mine

best mine body in yours.

IV.

At the sun I watched the lake,
  woman—

may god damn every place you
  were but are not.


Study into Polysyntactics

poly-: containing an indefinite number more than one of a (specified) substance

syntactics: : a branch of semiotic that deals with the formal relations between signs or
expressions in abstraction from their signification and their interpreters

syntax: 1 a : the way in which linguistic elements (as words) are put together to form
constituents (as phrases or clauses) b : the part of grammar dealing with this


Lawrence Poem: Second Text

Be near me so: all’s a rot in me
& Pytho my head & my herds
a’sorrow—me? I am fine, still.
And suppose nothing: still I am
fine.But Pytho. Pytho. This I say
is in my head and by a rule I must
decapitate.

Suppose for now something, at that
I am dying & not to my son it matters
       for no son have I: be near me so:
       my herds untended, my herds are
          a’sorrow for no man

comes in-stead supposed
if I am dying—

Pytho my fields & cabins. Pytho.
Nothing: still I am fine & so near me be.


 

Primary Motion

Knowing no borders I went
and slow came together:
in you as nature for years
composed ideal, for whom
I knew love as not a man
but boy and of things to
malice domestic: love was

what I fell to: none of for all
of things beautiful: love was
in me nature as not man but
  fodder and oh I often was
  a prey to all of for none
  of things beautiful: all of
  for all of things whom
  granted pulchritude hated:

     believe it said I went and
     go knowing nothing
            of borders:

and still this account will
slow come together: in you
as nature for years in me
a man I will slow become:
always nothing to me a use
of pride and to how stand
fixed to all of for everything
facing me: women, plague
& country: of for all fell to
            I may have:
now hear me, hear:

believe it said I am nature
I am man and speaking
you will listen as will all
my plague for all I am to
wreck all plague facing me:
I have my love my ideal.

     Pedro Trevino-Ramirez is nearing the legal drinking age and resides in Texas with his wife. He is founder and editor of an online poetry magazine, The Spitjaw Review, which is dedicated to publishing only quality poetry. revino-Ramirez is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and his most recent chapbook is titled "Origins and Anonymity", a fresh introspective collection. He is currently a guest editor for MiPo, and his work is published or upcoming will be seen in the following: Cotyledon, Poesy, Tryst, Thunder Sandwich, Third Lung Review, Jack Magazine, Pilgrimage, Tin Lustre Mobile, Cokefish, Tamafhyr Mountain Poetry.

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