she documents demented
I said I was bent Ed
she just smiled
never heard her voice
but I knew she
was listening ...
to store knowledge she says
humanity's needs
why they bleed
twined to desire
lined up, pockets full
pining for more
of something
never easily quantified
I am myself in a poem when here
and my fingers are cold
pale skinned outside smoking a cigarette
I get it, the world is soaked with buzz
and breathing in one's self
is a lost art
I get it, I really do
but I got to tell you
I don't care for it one bit
and it drives me rather moody
and manic and not caring
and I am sure I am not the only one
but fate is a fickle lover
for all of us, I imagine
one who never likes
being rousted
after saying
goodnight
she awakens
furious but keen
says to read these books
the ones not yet written
the ones like wind
that find you
imperceptibly
carved against
what you thought
was free will
<coda posed to be close to supper>
knew I was keen, on
big asses
tiny wastes
hourglass
fucking a lot
parking a lot
there we went
bowl after bowled over
clovers kept four leafers
leapers
and lepers
the idolatry
of silence
wrapped
in noise
becoming
a pandemic
in every near
future
now
EJR ©
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