Tuesday, December 8, 2009

45*21

when I was just a boy of 17
my momma said to me "you're not
a teenage king." shit! she was right
and here we go through life
with tail half tucked between leg
repent repent return to the 18th century
there you'll find the wild bliss
that ignites the flame of life
somewhere in that deep dark mind of yours
the sick feeling of throwing that switch
and why not. the world can go dark again
and by artificial light we can breathe
the paraffin air that soaks our tuber
personalities. we are frozen people
unearthed ice forms. our thoughts return
to the grave, not to the breathing beyond
tonight it will snow 6 inches and tomorrow
who knows, ice that will bring down trees
& we are caught in the forever should we
or should we not until it is impossible
to cast our appearance into our very existence

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