Mary McCarthy
All teeth and tongue
stain the stolid morning
a still ocean white
as milk lapping
toes half hidden
in swallowing sand
hand me over your
clever heart split
scissoring past teeth
gate finding grave
ground down unbound
bound over and under each
sense replete unsplit
unspelt refelted like
wool fresh from the comb
needled into downsoft
down dander dress
fast in the festival
of flesh and free wheeling
tumble un-dumb down
bottom and belt born words
slipping out from down
under the minds watch
always tick tock chop
a block sawing away
smooth as the ski blade
incising ice ground glass
like teeth ground down
glass spit split
blood on white sand
clean sheets unfolded
furled curled like
fallen leaves un- green
brittle broken brown
shattered dust and crumbs
beyond the clutch
of fists and fingers
reaching up out
outlaws desperadoes
bold taking raking
it all in no apologies
from tongues split or
whole curled up around
those broken traitor
bits of syllable tough
as knots hard pepper
bites biting spice
and sure to please
anyone come to taste
me take me down now
unlucky still delinquent
late unrepentant apologies
dragging me off like
a train to nowhere else
About the Author
Mary McCarthy is a retired Registered Nurse who has always been a writer. Her work has appeared in many journals and anthologies, including “The Ekphrastic World,” edited by Lorette Luzajic, “The Plague Papers,” edited by Robbi Nester, and recent issues of Gyroscope, Third Wednesday, Verse Virtual, and Earth’s Daughters. She has been a Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee.