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Sound and Sense | small poet at large

small poet at large

Sound and Sense

Sandoval plucks his stubble
kneels to shuffle the bag of notions
Saffron's flea market discoveries
merchants frown at his hands gliding over shelves
fingertips skipping off this and that
but he never has broken one of their curios
Saffron’s eyes are well versed in sifting
the vanilla from The Sandoval
         She sits at her secretary
purple pen shaping words on sky parchment
looks up after each line
is he signing or staring at the ceiling?
Sandoval’s hands are covered with glue and solder
marrying sea glass to desert fossil
wrapping feathers around trip wire
when he spreads his arms to reach end to end
touching each element reviewing every bond
Saffron circles his biceps feeling him feel
her vision conjures titles for his sculptures
         When comfortable with a poem
she reads it to him in her curious accent
if sonant is indiscernible he taps her on the shoulder
Saffron fingers the letters into his palm
watches his lips form the word
once he commits stanzas to heart
she guides him to the dais under the window
Sandoval performs her poem
foot taps meter   arms oscillate
blood and burns on his skin lace delivery
she claps her hands until they are crimson
         They sup by scented candle
he spins vinyl   von Schlippenbach Zorn Shipp
she views videos   Buñuel Resnais Godard
sitting on the divan his head on her shoulder
he squeezes her hand when a solo levitates him
if she shudders he wipes her eyes laps his pads
         In their bed Sandoval’s fingers
tour Saffron sinew seamount striation chasm
she sows her palms on his chest
rides each breath howls at heartbeats
while they quake he trembles for her
while they quiver she ululates for him



Published in The Fat City Review
All rights reserved including copyright - Richard H. Fox 2012


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