WAKE
he’s a hypnic jerk, he’s a hypnic jerk, in my ear he’s a hypnic jerk
and he got blue knees, yeah he got blue knees—he’s a cosmic squeeze
baby bound bowline hook and sinker so the butter is mellow
feeling all sorts of yellow
let it go let it go let it go (let it snow (repeat x3))
electro-pop rocks and soda synth slough almost make it true
this isn’t a poem about you cosmic blue and an old black shoe
it’s about tenfold and coming on fast or slow
shit red bike and a 40, hey no now not nearly 42, 42 is never not you
atlantic pedantic and neurotic too
homily anomaly stitch the tool mouths blue blue
squeeze let out the tease let loose the tease take it whole
bike fight bike fight saw sasquatch bleached dead bleached
legs not so cosmic not so cosmic you electro-funk fool
put past the ears the nears put past the you break it blue
and a hypnic jerk just a picnic jerk he’s a hypnic jerk the ear whore you
sop blue knees sop blue knees nobody ever did never say please
About the poet:
Kat Finch is a poetry editor at Mixed Fruit Magazine. She likes her orange cat and her copper bike. Her poems can be found in Birdfeast, The Dirty Napkin, and The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review among others.
About the Sound of Sugar:
We’ve loved reading the work that we’ve published (clearly), so now we want an opportunity to better hear our contributors.We will feature an audio recording of a poem from one of our seven issues, read by the poet and updated every couple of weeks. This an open invitation to all contributors from any of our issues, we were delighted to print your work, now we’re eager to hear it.
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