The greasy pole segments your body
dividing into disjointed scorpion tails.
Venomous poison under lights
Neon gas causes morals to rot and bloat
Water can't wash away memories,
hands under the tap, scrubbing
at Georgia riverstones, carrying them
away until they are smooth pebbles,
small pills to swallow and be full.
When water fills the cup, it becomes the cup
when it fills a bottle, it becomes the bottle.
When if fills the teapot, it becomes the teapot.
Water can flow, or it can crash,
grind and drown and weigh down your pockets,
keeping you here and washing you away.
Every night, a shower isn't enough,
too green tiles with dirty grout isn't enough;
Perfumed soap, the smell of lilacs and sweet pea and cucumber melon isn't enough
to drown you out.
This draft seems to shift into the more elusive in its execution, yet certain strategies evoked here could still be applied in future drafts. For example, the third stanza seems to use tautophrases to convey meaning in which a phrase repeats an idea in the same words. Also, such repetition could be twisted within the language to convey new ways of looking at an object without becoming too redundant.
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