Dreamscapes & Realities VII
There’s a frog in my mouth
sliding
.................down
toward an empty stomach,
slime coating my throat
the sound of my voice
................becomes a gurgle.
A body is caught in the quiet
.................................static hum
of the baby monitor,
shifting in a chair
putting down a cup
creates vibrations of noise:
deafness is thick
under seven feet of moribund water,
autumns death collected
in sediment and states of decomposition.
Lazy eyes of a drunk
struggle with words to differentiate
dreaming...............................reality
.....................spaces between
I taste syllables
beginning only to dis so
..................................................lve
too quickly on my tongue,
before lips can begin
to form sounds,
before fingers can shape their loops and whorls.
Meaning is known or knowing
exposed to air ,
causing thoughts to become
brittle and splintered.
I am seventeen
....................seven
under a hot summer sun,
burning beneath vest and shorts,
I am in the shadows
................at the bottom of an empty pool
scooping rancid water and leaves,
corpses of small animals
that fell in............and couldn't get out.
I am the evening
................pushing down on my sweating skin,
there is a frog in my mouth
a man in the room,
the smell of rot and death
makes me high,
................raises me from my bed
................until the atmosphere thins
................and I find unconsciousness
Samantha Ledger is a poet and photographer currently living on the outskirts of London. She is the author of Bells for Her available through NeoPoiesis Press.
There’s a frog in my mouth
sliding
.................down
toward an empty stomach,
slime coating my throat
the sound of my voice
................becomes a gurgle.
A body is caught in the quiet
.................................static hum
of the baby monitor,
shifting in a chair
putting down a cup
creates vibrations of noise:
deafness is thick
under seven feet of moribund water,
autumns death collected
in sediment and states of decomposition.
Lazy eyes of a drunk
struggle with words to differentiate
dreaming...............................reality
.....................spaces between
I taste syllables
beginning only to dis so
..................................................lve
too quickly on my tongue,
before lips can begin
to form sounds,
before fingers can shape their loops and whorls.
Meaning is known or knowing
exposed to air ,
causing thoughts to become
brittle and splintered.
I am seventeen
....................seven
under a hot summer sun,
burning beneath vest and shorts,
I am in the shadows
................at the bottom of an empty pool
scooping rancid water and leaves,
corpses of small animals
that fell in............and couldn't get out.
I am the evening
................pushing down on my sweating skin,
there is a frog in my mouth
a man in the room,
the smell of rot and death
makes me high,
................raises me from my bed
................until the atmosphere thins
................and I find unconsciousness
Samantha Ledger is a poet and photographer currently living on the outskirts of London. She is the author of Bells for Her available through NeoPoiesis Press.
