heart

she said”you arewhat you
are.” to a stunned, i
well
if this is true then every-
thing.every fought-for
refused for, insisted on(lengthened tooth&
&wordsexchangedinanger(instantly-grayed for
defending
thing, a:

forgettable transform
of clumsy origami, or

easily now so distant
looking upon

ignorant curls of dust
remembered differently&
by no one

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

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Joust

seems a prize for all
the grooming
x’s & o’s.Her.
wants a vacancy occupied.i
.(impeccably intentioned) totter
at the plummet
hamstrung by antiquated(possibly)not
-ions
whether ventured or not nothing is
something

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

Fleisch

eclipsed by the consuming
waters
the once proud seafarer submits
to eternal
inevitability

endowed
by the hands that made her
with every enchantment, and superstition
in foreknowing the navigable mysterious
ahead and on all sides

by the belief in her radiance, guided
and fell

fodder for invaders

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

hunger

quiet is all are all(if
exclude the murmuring stomach
‘s)& a twisting of bodies

anticipatory, eagerly
the slack-jawed gathering hush
for a parade of enzymes

a chattering resumes
differently
saluting the soul

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

Cormorant

seizing upon hunted
delighting in the(e
devoured
belief
in a selfprovidence
and
worse offenses
,sure

,a reality with this evidence
as foundation

breaking surface gambol
forever
altering permissive

a guiltless suffering

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

abuse

is as i have suspected
:an interruption,a
course correction”
love- even when well-meant is
it would hurt
me
to see you ((fumble&stumble about
so.much.so that i must
interject myself into your
logical spheres
tying unconnected ends together&
sweeping up unnecessaries

))there/

all is arranged according to my
designimperfect
listen, beloved

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

in Saddletown looking for a Horse

where i find my mind
this morning wandering through the amble
of what’s to come
of moments that build a day
the narrative in these domes internal
peaking at decision
without plot
,or function
i’ll take down the old books
reread the winsome losesome waged betwixt
good and evil compromises
as it always has
when all the all
dead unions held a calvary line against
feeling
that my time has come and gone

but i will light a candle
say a prayer that need should still
exist

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.