this call should be transferred.
not counting. not counting. knot.
if someone is chewing loudly,
eat them to hide the noise.
almost the same as perfume;
how a basket of peaches muffles a room.
watch out for too many keys;
also, for old Portuguese proverbs.
lens caps are accepted in the forest.
silicon earth is a better terrazzo.
it’s much worse to live in fear anyhow.
I know a fantasy. one is right there.
training time. mares learning harness are small-eared.
flying bats are high fashion designers.
so what are the differences between a cat's coats?
oh, all that devour our mind’s legs.
more bandages
it's readers who should get canon-stuffed
not these milquetoast critics.
if a cannibal muses too loudly,
eat them to stop the prancing.
almost as clowning as your colon
a sulphur musket spills the room
beware the bottomless credit card
an old Hollywood aphorism
why are hens fully capable
without silliness to smooth the tempest
it’s a farther-reaching horse who lives near
to knowing an imagined ledge
the piddly gluts of cob mares
fly-swatter high fashion nerves
the space between a straw hat and a goat
reduces to 0 as he munches it
a band of sand, who plays on plage?
roger that, flag it a go. cannon-stuffing a cannelloni
of a man or a marmot, mille-fois geckoes are dunked thru air.
ground, 10, 9, 8, Hannibal and his elephants wallpaper rooms
a heroic victory is cast blue from projection tvs, wavering.
almost as clowning as your colon, you turn out the pockets
and that pay is your rocket inheritance, sulphur sifting
werewolves and dragons beyond this cartesian credit
the myths we refuse to muss with in case they’re true.
why do you not believe in the hens, fully capable
without a cluck in the world, cockcombed conflicts
stretch your neck at possible proxemics.
does flow become flower or flower proceed to flow? or float?
bad optics, the space between a hat and a goat
but we all have our unaccountable straw hungers
each in their beach
staid fuse in a manual on how to use a marmot ruse, fake it out with a poker face
a full house fuelled on cinnamon to zaps her animal crackers, if you know what
i mean. in late lean of early evening light, all players have the same stilts. a haste blues, bud. curb-stumble, almost as clowning as your colon, or as a trucker's semi cold pizza pocket
and dash-warm peaches vaguely considering an exposition fuzz. against dampening dusk wolves or pomeranians drag oblique bagatelles missed by those believers who must be true
enough. what's more true than almost belief? a complaint hen clucks a truck's key
to ignition to turnover to miles to makes little difference but to the pocket.
out the tailpipe compunctions exacerbate odometer vs memory. the tints prove laughter
without syllogisms attendant, without log in eye bending. yellow dash hum, the piddly gluts
of cob mares. home is
fly-swatter clad nerves
in wracked and
wrapt optics, spaced thru his odd goat’s eye
don’t account for the laws of hunger
can it be held staid too long before defusing?
a manual on how to use a marmot coat, sings a feck and dunk air.
ground cinnamon zaps her animal crackers
a victory over your taste bud blues project
almost as clowning as your colon, pizza pockets
vaguely considering an exposition fizz
where wolves drag oblique bagatelles
missed by those believers who must be true
a compliant hen ends up in a sandwich,
whether in or under a truck of trade makes little difference
down the flue compunctions exacerbate the tints
prove laughter without syllogisms attendant wrapt optics,
spaced thru his odd goat’s eye, don’t account for the laws of hunger
Roland Prevost's first trade poetry publication Singular Plurals (Chaudiere Books, 2014) came out in the fall of 2014. He has been published by Arc Poetry Magazine, Descant, The Toronto Quarterly, Ottawa Arts Review, among others. He also has five chapbooks to his name. He lives and writes in Ottawa.