Sunday, December 28, 2008
POTENTATE
You called me the golden calf
but I ended up with a silver tongue
where the knife has started
that’s where I’ve begun
no shortness of breath
no palpitations
this corpse immaculate
upon inspection
I speak no further than this body
and I need no further reach
I’m the bankrupt slaughter
every fear that’s ever slipped past
I hold the lease
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
BREAKING SHORES If the rain were a telegram then I’d be talking to everyone at once, all of us under a singular, spreading touch, as ti...
-
GRAVE MELODY I have found Sabina Melody among the graves, beloved of Matthew, resting in this earth since 1891, awaiting the Day of R...

No comments:
Post a Comment