Many ways to die and never realize it, or a play by play of a melodramatic romantic

Thursday, April 09, 2009

I skewered the snake with a mongoose-like pose, I felt so unreal in front of my friends.
So now, you're in the closet, and I'm on that hook-- a cattle production, nine divided by ten.
The grass in your wallet, the sand on your chest, a virgin-like memory.

I can't fade, or I can't be held.

Reactionary seeds, and words of stone and salt. Anchoring a ship away from its sails.
Living a mule, burning inside of the moss. Becoming a cousin to a foreign widow.
This is how we survive, this is the means we have to breath. 

We take turns in the oven, we make love to the mirrors. 
The society cranks and turns, and our eyes roll inside of our skulls.

1 comment:

The Last Unicorn said...

I told you, you are totally a poet. A good one too!