Contact Corn
Words fell through my mind
in plumber’s wrenches
you walked
through a room
my hands shook
I kept pebbles in my pocket
to hold on to
you
kicked at my desire
broad hoofed
your head became
an Olmec icon
my fingers reached
reached for you
like skinny cobs
of ancient maize
Copyright © Sam Poole | Year Posted 2020
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