April 15, 2015

#NaPoWriMo 2015 no.14a


London, Charing Cross Rd. (man with milk cart)
by Wolfgang Suschitzky, 1936 ©





pickled beets, kudra?
(we fuck after funerals)

today I was 
licking the air...

pollen's 
velvet-ification 
is beginning
so it is easier 
for me to crawl by 
tasting my want
for the pleasures 
of sin...

we are habits 
and rituals 
I bargain 
myself with...

sine singed 
tongued while tied
sung signed and vine-d
sown into roots,
vegetables and 
poems...

you see just maybe
we were always meant 
to be something savored 
in and out 
of when and how
we were 
and were not 
supposed 
to behave 
appropriately...

you see just maybe 
my inner harmony 
is me hitting repeat 
on the older woman 
selfie porn...

besides, doesn't going to heaven 
in a bunch of temporary forever(s)
constitute the very same thing
as purification through escapism...?

EJR ©

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