August 3, 2012

poem 258 of a poem a day for 2012

for everything a coin will bell

I am tipping the uteruses
I am a soul’s genetic modification gone awry
I am in a slow demise
I am a grind frenzy
I am give me life
I am give me wings
I am give me a reason
not to be the fool
not to be so full of naivete
not to be so cruelly ignorant
when gifted with words
that measure desire
that measure what
can fill a broken cup

I am clever
I am street corner desire
I am the self immolation
of a 10 penny side show freak show
I am slow burning with a staked Sun
that yearns to mimic my hunger
for more skin to cover my empty holes
I am just another Moses
on the soles of every foot
carried by the wind
I am something you wipe away
before any house is entered
with the candles lit
and the windows open
and the sensual feast of Pomona waiting
I am anticipation
I am the quiet of desperation
I am never sated
I am not elated to ever know
I may never have a home


1 comment:

  1. Last five over and over...stopped me in my tracks x