i’ve read more words these days
reached deep into your tattered pockets
from a past
found them filled with your
former foreign language
the then of you
dripping from every line
the artery of last decade’s language
branched and broken off
held each vein
precious vein
to surface
to skin
opening like the petals
of ready cunt flower
stabbed again and again.
the threaded needle of your beaded blood
carried the same message
‘go easy with it’, you said
just a little
just a taste
here and there
now and then
just a little bit of it
to jump-start creative juices
or else you will wind up
walking and pacing
pacing and walking
like the rest of them.
it feels as though your
tattered shoes
have worn weary
thirty years of justification
forty on rationalization’s
crooked path
just a little
just a taste now and then
and then its a decade
of smoking and hoping
and then its today.
but where are you
who are you again?
walking and pacing
pacing and strolling
the stroll of the foolish
wasted
and wasted away
from then to today
6.12.07 for SR
