"... every man loves a good throat ..."


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K.I. Press

K.I. Press


every man loves a good throat
                                 - "you"

mine's a good throat
and you the amphibian in it
soak up the water
from the muggy red walls
through your skin, slick
you breathe, and me

I have you
a new strain, a swelling
a nervous gurgle in my throat

rough, my whisper filters
through your good breathing

Underground (i)

searched up and down the road and river
searched in barns and unidentified remains
dragged dugouts with fishing nets and finally
the ditch yielded that grey horse

gone down despairing, fallen in a quickditch
his head sprouted from the ground, wilted

must've given up by then. seldom moved or made a noise
moved his eyes slightly, gauging slippery inches
I thought he might bubble him under

a neighbor came on us kneeling and weeping at the ditchside
we pointed at our horse's mucky breathing, the hole of wet sand
that neighbor looked sadly, brought back two workhorses

and the terror in their eyes, never seen hooves dug in the ground so hard
sinister moon dents in the road
the look our horse gave them as he closed his eyes and ducked