Thursday, January 10, 2008

my body is a nuthouse

each of my
cells is

my body
is the largest
lunatic asylum
in the world

trillions of them
loose within the walls
of my shape

you can see
the hairs on my
arms & back
of my neck
stand on edge
from their
mad membranes
just beneath
the surface of
my flesh

i pour cups
of wine
on them
& they temporarily
fall calm

but then the next day
they're buzzing
madder than ever
like an angry swarm
of microscopic bees
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.