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Tuesday, Jan. 3, 2012

the trajectory always leads to the bed

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we pop in n out of theme,  marred nails keep reminding you
     of special thoughts,  conceits dropped and growing into
    tangent trees:      a whole forest of
sporadic savage prosody.    the wolf finds you in red
       cheeks, scarlet hoods    and feigned naivet:
do you really not see?     he sniffs around you to see what
      he can get:     they pick humans cause they’re easier,
       softer to a serenade.     devilish motives chase us down.
we lose our magical virginity.
    we pop in n out of a forest, teasing muses
with scalpel tickles.    it’s not natural what’s underneath the skin.


Bethany Price is a senior in the Creative Writing Department at UW-Milwaukee. She has been published in BlazeVox and UWM's Furrow. She loves to be surrounded by books. She is currently working on an illuminated manuscript with her friend, the talented artist Rebecca Pollak. Bethany loves reading poetry both old and new.