Brevet Wilson

Brevet Wilson Poems

I spent nine miles with her.
in a cheap apartment.
Boxed wine and cheeses with exotic sounding names.
Eaten on a blanket on the floor as we had no table.
...

She wore faux fox furs
dyed blue,
she said it matched her purple hair.
and ate nothing but Ramen noodles with miracle whip.
...

I know you;
You are the reoccurring dream I have had
since childhood.
The one that leaves me exhausted all day the next day,
...

The police are raiding the hotel room next door.
A lot of shouting and flashing lights.
Lights that play optical illusions with her naked body.
...

I am waiting for the world to explode
I am waiting for the oceans to exceed their grasps.
I am waiting for you to start carving flaming words in to the air
with a silver forked tongue.
...

This city is full of animals.
Base and depraved.
Scavengers dressed in suits and ties,
women looking like panthers but attacking like rats.
...

We sat on the floor,
surrounded by obsolete maps.
Planning our 'great escape'
to places that no longer have names.
...

Sometimes I wonder
what has happened to all the lost souls
I have known through the years...
...

On another planet
in another lifetime
we could have been something.
...

I have plagiarized your flesh a hundred times or more.
With words
with paint,
even with bone and paper mache sculptures.
...

She hovers on my headboard.
Hair wild and shoe polish black.
At night she hovers there...
screaming her deranged and distorted thoughts
...

I use to know a heroin addict.
one time she tried to 'tie off' around her neck
after I told her there are veins you can 'hit' in there.
Operative phrases:
...

She lives in the spaces in between the spaces.
She looks perpetually and terminally bored...
as if she will die at any moment from the banality.
The lost Gashlycrumb Tiny.
...

I could write about the snow,
the silent white death that covers the city
and mutes everything... just silence.
But there are too many lousy naturalist poets.
...

She drove as I fiddled with the radio.
I was stealing looks at her,
young, fresh, clean.
and oh my god her cleavage was hypnotizing.
...

It's cold and raining
4: 04 AM at the shelter.
From my office I can see fires lit in garbage cans,
and everyone is wearing silver 'emergency' ponchos
...

So many people
with big mouths,
and glass jaws.
When they talk they don't make words
...

He hung there,
not like 'strange fruit'
but like a body.
...

I've carved her out of thin air,
and fire.
Words, like hot candy, drip from her mouth.
...

20.

I am sick with your corpse.
The sickness entered through my eyes and the infection has worked its way in to my brain.
In to my sleep,
In to my dreams.
...

Brevet Wilson Biography

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The Best Poem Of Brevet Wilson

9 Miles On A Dirty Futon

I spent nine miles with her.
in a cheap apartment.
Boxed wine and cheeses with exotic sounding names.
Eaten on a blanket on the floor as we had no table.
we had no couch,
we had no television.
But we had music.

At night we would lay on a futon matress
that layed on the floor.
The streetlight outside the bedroom window playing shadows across sections of her.
First her eyes were lit, the rest of her awash in shadows,
then,
when she turned,
her mouth was visible,
but her eyes were shadowed.
A breast, a thigh, her hair all illuminated
then darkened
according to her movments.

Sometimes she would lie on her back and light a cigarette.
Her whole face would light with the flash of the lighter,
like hand held lightining,
then darken again.
We would talk for hours on that futon,
I don't remember what was said...
I remember her in pieces of light and shadow.

When she smoked the light would turn the smoke in to a slow
languid serpent
escaping from her body through her mouth and nose.
I have never seen anyone smoke like that before or since.
Her face half lit by the streetlight.

She would speak and the words would drift out of her
entwined with the smoke.
She smoked like Garbo.
slow and seductive.

9 years with her and all my memories are of shadows, soft sodium streetlights, and orange cigarette glow.

9 years with her and all I remember are the lights and shadows
across her body.
On that futon matress
on the floor.

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