A torchon after Indigo Weller Some need some Body or more to ape sweat on some site. Bloody purl or dirty spit hocked up for to show who gets eaten. Rig Body up. Bough bow to breeze a lazed jig and sway to grig’s good fiddling. Pine-deep dusk, a spot where stood Body. Thus they clap — when I mount banc’, jig up the lectern. Bow to say, “it’s all good,” we, gathered, withstood the bends of dives deep er, darker. They clap as I get down. Sweat highlights my body,…
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