THREE POEMS BY LAYNIE BROWNE
rain is known as soft water
I am using the word “deft” to refer to a mimetic body. Though ivy
faces seem not to chance while we are tangled in them. For example,
the vehemence surrounding a furnace is said to cause fault lines. Their
typology is based upon the expression about the mouth.
The tiled flowers have grown dim. Was there nowhere but here?
The scent surmised a glass full of tremors. Misplaced a hound for a
windowpane, a conclusion for a prescription and now that the liminal
status has departed, I wondered and he made and explanatory model
of his sleep.
The paper bridge escorts us to where we have less estuaries
the front yard trembling
Anemone, he said,
changing the word with the substance of his mouth
She will lie
To be written
in thick sheaves
*all from The Scented Fox, Wave Books, 2007.