Monday, September 6, 2010

where the fuck is the relief

not having the pleasure to have contracted
one of the deadly diseases
we suffer the small nonlethal ones
w/smaller yet still torturous symptoms
every day symptoms: itching, burning, headache, gut cramps
insomnia, panic, nose bleeds, rash, vertigo, bone pain
hemorrhaging hemorrhoids, etc..
like i said, not fortunate enough to just outright fucking die
we walk around battling these little deaths
swatting them off our surfaces like insects
until the big one arrives
crushing us
in one splat

ah, relief...
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.