after the last one
watching people in love
is like studying someone
up-close
& in slow motion
falling face-down
upon a bed
of long sharp blades
disguised as newly
opened flowers
you scream for them
to stop
but their eyes roll back
in ecstasy
as they drop hard
onto gory knives
hiding in fresh colored glory
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.
Blog Archive
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2010
(103)
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September
(15)
- seizing the poison
- a quick note on genius
- the lack of everything
- un-jump-startable souls
- the fucked-up human stain
- if only we can die like this
- i feel like
- i can smell the stench from here
- born w/a cemetery in my chest
- gazing right through the dancing girls
- unwantingly speared
- the gory game
- darkness retained
- where the fuck is the relief
- one of yr animals dies
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September
(15)