Sunday, February 17, 2008
SHALLOW THROAT
I’ve been counting the words caught in my throat.
I know how my own hunger could split me open.
I see the wound of my body exposed in text book diagrams; coiled, naked organs.
Half-finished men trapped there, frozen beneath the icy lid of plastic overlays.
Each one a shallow grey boat,
each one a drowning victim.
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CIVILIZATION AND ITS’ DISCONNECTS Turn off your computer. I know, I know. I will cease to exist. I will return to my cave of shadows, ha...
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BACK IN BROOKLYN… The latticed chain-link casts its’ shadow and the gods skip a shallow grave. Zeus ran a moving business on 4th ave, but ...