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PURCHASE THE DIGITAL COLLECTION (2013)
B. 3.28.05 Carthage, Missouri / D. 6.14.86 Clayton, Missouri
My effort from Writing Group tonight:
A magnificent set of velvet-napped antlers is all I require to complete me. Not in the moose vein, with those broad sea-shell slab-like expanses—they'd obscure the view lines of my fellow opera patrons—but many-pronged and high and highly convoluted. The tips of the many prongs would be of two natures: some very sharp and insensible, even in the act of spearing; the rest round-tipped and downy, nerve-filled as fingertips or ears and similarly thrilled by sensation.
In time, these more-responsive prongs would reach their growth, and relax into the hard and pointy state of their maturity.
With various aloe and verbena balms I would maintain my antlers as some do mahogany armchairs or baseball gloves, and their gleam would suggest a suppleness any touch would belie. For I’d not only clatter my antlers at adversaries—I’d also be free with occasions to bow my head to the delighted, exploratory stroking of children and tourists and waitresses.
Consolation Site: Idol
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