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I long to catch a greyhound,
spotted with a silver diet drink
and sharp toes cutting her path
down these city streets.
I want to teach her my name,
sandwich her iron ore between
coils of gropes and grapples,
and see how quickly she can
talk me out of every handlehold
that helps me break her down.

This was great! Just like your other poems it's different and out there yet wonderful in every way.

Keep it up!
~Rieda

I liked the poem. Even though there was no rhyme it still flowed. The way you put a lot of detail on this poem was good because it is a shorter poem than most.

Capitalize Greyhound.

Sandwich kind of seems vulgar as a verb here.

Other than those minutiae, wonderful. You have described a peculiar feeling with clarity, while keeping the fogginess of it intact. Deft, as usual.

To be absolutely honest with you, this wasn't one of my favorites from your collection. I feel like it wasn't as defined (my favorite word of the week) as many of your other poems are. Like, maybe there isn't as much passion into this one as the others. I mean yea, it is well written as always...and if I knew nothing of your other works I would praise you greatly but for you--not my favorite.