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.