Word Poem

gimme edges on some tooth decay
squirrel nests from myself

refrigerating motor oil consistency
parts scattered inside: racecar
                         a frame viewpoint
                         a wind taken spit

palindromes being pulled—
stripped fraction of how we say


how we say more memories: driving past red lights
            keeping horseshoes crossed in the tongue

my body processes
            a little soul fixes everything

Scales on earth’s footprints
            by bloodstream weight



Evan Gray is a current candidate for an MFA in poetry at The University of North Carolina, Wilmington. His work has appeared in various online journals including The Peel Review. He currently lives in Wilmington, NC. He writes at www.evangrayblog.tumblr.com.