Saturday, May 1, 2010


I packed my things up
And went to the place where the young things are
Pulsing in the dark to a neon sound.
They've got the cure
And ain't momma just dying for a fix
Dying to crawl on her hands and knee's away from it all
Away from the tap tap tap
In her skull
To brightening bliss.

Loves house burnt down over a lighter and spoon
And left the white ash of this
Now there is only this.
And so soon
To be slipping down the walls
Of a public bathroom stall
Into a puddle of mush
That screams of artificial home
That screams of love
That has no reason
And no groove in this world
Just hovering like a headless Buddha
That told her it was right.
His fat fingers dripping with the stuff
Could she catch them on her tongue
Like sugar
Could she learn
Or run
Never hide,
From her place in this world

Tremble and twitch
Told her it was sick
To be doing what she's doing
And sick all the same
To be not to.
She wants to make it right
And someone turn on the light
Her bones would break
And ache
Her skin
Snapping one by one within
The fire less to do with desire
And more need
That drives the secret feed
The sin
The weakness
That sunk the pit of her lower
Then the sea
To turn and churn
The hunger
The god damed hunger
To be more
Then me.

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