Wednesday, May 12, 2010

the myth of the blood red tattoo

there's a red splotch
on my back

where anatomically
a wing would sprout
on a mortal
if angels & demons
actually existed

but in my case
it looks as tho
a wing was torn off

the other
never budding

& if i was the subject
of myth

the story might go that
i had torn it off myself
in a mad fit

consumed it
& defecated it out

& it has gone back
into the earth where
it belongs

b/c i'm not concerned
w/flight or heaven

my wish is to be mortal

i wish die like the rest
of living things

& i wear that
blood red tattoo
to prove it
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.

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