November 16, 2012

poem 423 of a poem a day for 2012

farming maggot desire

writhing disguised
inside walking cities
I breeze by the causeways
waiting for the rain
are you thirsty
or just hungry
for more shit
the worms ask
each time I pass the gates
to my own molecular breakdown

no, I won't cry
because I am already crazy
and no, I won't buy anything
that I can steal or take
from my core to explore
a more temporary permanence
I am culturally attached to apathy
and watching designers
parade mannequin secrets
while I seek the shadows
and the alleyways

I stretch out my hands
my fingers slipping from reason
and when someone asks me
can you get a grip
I turn and spit out
every soul is a ship
that knows time
is an illusion
when kept as quiet
and as blind as I am
when turning the soil
into pennies and palms


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