Spacewalk &

Epaulettes, Dash, Imacularium

By Colin James


Salt was kissed off the brow for now,

occupying more than less dependence.

No suspects mouthing “Arrest him!”

Many ringed fingers for sure

and that stance for viewing art

a slight lean, chin in hand

holding up a weight of sorts.

The rest folding to conform.

Self conscious red dots or

is it acne? Are there no walls?

A preference for conceptual talk,

proteins after all and fat piles

Someone at last admits to obduration.

But they are never present when

you have an overpowering need

to pull the rope skywardly inwards.

Epaulettes, Dash, Imaculraium

The room wearers gather

on mosaic floors without pandering

delicate travelliances.

Saturn caped messiahs

continue to meet here on Fridays.

Eyelashes flutter like butterflies.

Unshaven mulch, I’m prepared

like a bear of postulance,

to let the comparative satisfy.

Colin James

Colin James has a couple of chapbooks of poetry published. Dreams Of The Really Annoying from Writing Knights Press and A Thoroughness Not Deprived of Absurdity from Piski’s Porch Press and a book of poems, Resisting Probability, from Sagging Meniscus Press.