27 March 2012

untitled

look at these hands not shaking in the dark
my workmits smooth as pudding
hands out sweat hugs

i knew i was going to
butcher it

hello i mean
to be

say to your next door neighbor
anything that makes you seem closer
but still on the right side of the fence

like i am swinging
this massive tree trunk
a thousand year old stump

(i made
a handful
of investments
in the dirt
-y words
biz)

my skully thinker is a baby bird
with babyspeak words
like fuck "it"

crack is my frame shiver
shelled under constant piano hammering
golden in metal makeup only

covered in my own feathers
i can't sing
i can only get out of this cage
once or twice

or was never in a cage
meant to be

my headstone says
as you walk past it

think about that
all the technology they will have to remind you
that i
existed

or nothing to sing about
mouth an o
like we're fucking

paint a picture and defend why you
remember anything
or then i spill what's in me

unspent heroin
looking to calm my living
and the rest of what i ate
over the past 28 years

a number
then a dash
then a number

No comments: