three days after the tow
i'm at the old familiar garage
the jumper cables wouldn't
have worked
on this one,
says the first mechanic
you were right
by just calling the tow guy,
says the second
the battery
is completely shot
dead
corroded,
the first mechanic says
nothing could've
jump-started that thing...
the second adds
& i felt it then
that particular feeling
at the center of my core
unknowingly articulated so well by
the wise old mechanic
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)