Luke J. Holt

Rookie - 238 Points (1-14-91 / fullerton CA)

Shriveled Jazz - Poem by Luke J. Holt

crying under bursts of fennel horns
curled under a black grand
with the dullest pencil in New York
...in my teeth
color of damp flour
im dragging the root of a storm of algebra
how satin bells raise
and murder the refrain with a nervous herd of dazzling tri-tones
((like voices mixed in one speech))
a grey-blue baby of fever
lifting a stubby, star-shaped fin for the swell of shriveled jazz


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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2014

Poem Edited: Saturday, January 4, 2014


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