Sister Virgin the denied aim, by Melissa Chaconas

Daughter Straddle
The

Saddle oracle

“shedding hot tears”

drunken bend crossing T’s in hope
of Pro’s
Prose
Poetry
danced
separate
spins

pastured herbs

heal the
frenzied
blow of a if done by
a
bitten tongue

“to find peace in the sea”

A girl now ripe
digital short-story of
a fruitious woman

deep in an inner
soiled down in an inherent
with humming
thunder

along came hustling, popping.
BLAST

it seemed her

her act it was

impressed-stimulated
stirred, tenderly new fangled in

her the noiselessness

admonition
there

bent over
walking with long white alien legs
slow on the toes
walking on blue earth

earlier the
sisters
gone
of
grammer
mistaken

stayed without them
as out of line ones
are
bedridden
bored maybe in
ivy-cross-woven laced chariot-nests
(rocking back n forth)
shapED like
long W’s.