poem 104 of a poem a day for 2012

my drunken gardened rant-hology crawl

fuck all my words

fuck all their sounds

fuck all the time

I litter myself

to be found

fuck all that I see

fuck all of me

fuck every sentence I see

without fuck in it

to be

fucked

on the surface of

every ripe skin

of mine

screaming to bleed

so I dig holes

in myself

and in time

and plant flowers

and wonder why

in rhyme

they’re always red

as if I didn’t

already know

that when I

give a fuck

Love always

grows wine

for crawls

and flows

EJR ©