Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Poem 1
friend e told me to post more poems. he's a fan of the winning haiku. how nice. haven't thought about poetry in a long time, although the word "tome" is an accurate description of my junior high and high school collected works.
written yesterday...
there's a pocket of bile in my heart
it holds your words.
like licking a metal mountain covered in vitamin sprinkles:
the taste.
like soaking a pillow without a sound; doesn't that mean something...permanent.
like self-loathing that runs with horsepower blood, blazing vessel-trails;
torque.
like digging a rut and it never rains and then becomes a grave.
like meatloaf,
like melarky,
there is no truth in self-defense.
like the walkman kid on an excedrin overdose, filling in graph paper smiles.
i take your words and put them there, careful not to bend them.
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1 comment:
More! More!
I bet this one sounds great when read aloud. Torque. Just the sound of it is lovely and bitter and rock hard.
More like this, please.
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