Monday, March 21, 2011


Her essay appealed to me,
In a deep and frightening manner,
Half in the bag and looking up
Shaking rust off the boardroom floor,
Nervous like a man possessed
Cuticle and broken nail
Residuals in this corridor,

Hearsay infects me
I take it all too heart
Doesn’t matter, I don’t care,
I say these things but I’m a liar
And life’s not fair,
The next day when the lasts not hear,
Stupid boy, screaming and screaming
Decibels rising much too high,
Lord let this end, deafen my ears

Beard dripping water wet
Eyes propped open
Into the reflecting glass,
Time stopping as daylight runs,
Muttering again and again
What am I going to do with you?
Heresy seems to be here to stay

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