Thursday, April 23, 2009

lines like drops of blood

my tongue is a damp slab
of meat among chips of skull

between the buds
& the web beneath
my life stories line up

broken off from
a perpetual lump
a tumor full of tines
at the back of my throat

they spring off the tip
through spaces between
tombstone teeth
like sprays of spit

not like venom
but rather the
antidote for the bites

hot droplets like pus
like tears
like blood
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.