Mouth (Unzipped)

Poetry by Jude Marr

Mouth (Unzipped)

lips, pucker-stitched, lisp: sweet/sour
spit dribbles frothy fricatives

pressure-hose curses bust stitches

raw lips leak/scream
raw lips kiss/whistle
raw lips cancan dance—

tongues untied vocalize

music         old-as-eve

ai ai ai be be be

Forensic Dentistry

teeth like henges, hauled in place by neoliths, crooked
headstones, wired beads—or hollow

stumps must be repaired, replaced, made good
enough to chew on bone for all eternity—but molars

hold memory (a child, terrified): stress
fractures mock arrested rot: my mouth betrays

shame as amalgam: dentists denigrate, but who will
praise my teeth’s endurance?

View From a Locked Room

I see reflections of insanity
in window-glass: yard shadows coalesce: dis-
tended fruit depends from every tree: out of emptiness
I conjure cardiac anomalies—

tortured branches twist: my wrist-
pulse is percussive (blood and gristle in a fight
for width): gate bang’s a whip-smart gust
of yesterday’s excessive trust in wit—

I pace, believing in infinities
of cherry trees: their wounds ooze sap—a soft-
barked army, waiting
for the ax—but underground, their roots commune

my solitary cell contracts: window bars resemble
railroad track

in a locked room, my head rests
against dead wood: I will, when orchard noises
cease, send to the city for seed.

Jude Marr teaches, and writes poetry, as protest. They are currently a PhD candidate at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, and their chapbook, Breakfast for the Birds (Finishing Line), was published in 2017. Recent credits include Nightjar Review, 8 Poems, and Oxidant Engine.