7 Poems
by Elizabeth Franklin

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sideways slangs like “one-eyed linus” won’t make it downroad long in this poetry
economy
not that it ever,
half-slung,
like your institutional jaw
which is hung,
like a glyph,
sutured in fiberglass
ribald of seasonal abscesses
fingers wanting closer of wrist
bent to palsy
producting coughs

the day we met I was in the minorest of abeyances
look and you’d never wake up
stay a layering of pause
it was in this glass area my one clean was supposed to reside safe
now it’s too hot for every info not to float
I cut trenches in alleyway soup now
I must rearrange my strategy garments to go outdoors
it’s a burden
this working class proliferation
this fetid decision
these piles of synthetic resters

to face a wind full in at least one unobstructed direction out-expenses me here
something allergics me to the full means of it
it’s the ones that chose it though--
the mouth dwellers--
rolling off the rooftop blacktop
sweltering in the night
all the parks are full, etc.
I get it
I held the gaze on the mouth too long and willed the gag









some kind of dumb muscle
some kind of aspergent desert rat
subsistence reaps on carbon dioxide
water enough from a closed hole
but I want to mouth the great
white ginger
buck on a coat of plaque
fetal crawl
reverse into uterine sister











the layers
they just kept on arriving and pushed
past me into generalizable duties:  hosting for mass
marring the cousin failed and so did the velocity of my speakers flounder.
I intoned to my Latinates to repair to the shorted sound: jiggle the cord
one year electric vintage to the day
the elevator proposed my pitch : pitch ambivalent guests in 30 seconds or less
a nonplussing proposal
pushed me eventually past concerns for mounds
and yielded an encrypted domesticity
and the original dream plan kiss worked
delivering cousin declension
I don’t want to be touched by the base of his fungal
I don’t want his fungally base touch
non ulcerated kiskis sometimes is fine











four sharp hours and im medically up
from a medical snore
to the discular neck knob
let out perfectly circular
            at six I released the bumblebee
            two days prior I ran out of drugs
            settled into eardrop administration
            a tosser of drops
            a strivectus addicter
accoutremented shab
enmoldened in the british basement
arrangements of floral all over
backs and fronts
and the undersides of eyelids
domestics excursed around the high corner
and foreign tones just sound angry
except the sky which is ever just bark here
perforating straights,
throbbing sockets,
this Italian tube rotates on its own axis
and youlose your portion again.
I came to take it back with me.
your edges are unaccustomed to mouth normal           
it’s your give-away sign
I don’t care for your signal











art crucible=/=art
foxglove=/=fox
and yet swarthy curvatures of putty ooze out my tonsil holes in patterns of frosting
when I push on their asymmetrics
bestly, with my indices poised
like an old clean
like I’m flush powering a lyric bottom
like I’m performance driving
like I’m off-dating a self-stranger
the poet drug tune user
a goddamn philthy poem tooth
a dirty man with ballet eye
last home swollen
fish pond all on fire
he’s still thinking red and dark
he called a stick a slogan
+ by + by shoved up that black thing I had
it’s an immediate fashion  I’m addicted
I tell licensed strangers everywhere
I pay them to tell them that
every minute getting earlier
then
O, crumple zone
O, smashy numbers
O, waterproof stain
come off it
lockheed your angel tooth
English strongjaw
and make my self-lines porous so that I pass out like chicken wire











can we brick up my stomach?
can we ultimate?
can we dog neck?
Venus,
are you telling me to die alone by your light?
what do I not know?
its unclear to know where to pour out
such a small amount of water