Thursday, June 28, 2007

apology (2007)

sorry for the slow reply

I’ve been sick again,
spitting air,
haunting town without a face

(this face no longer valid)

hungry words flock
to define me:
'cut-price', 'reheated', 'uneven'…

so uneven I’ve been cutting
around the gardens rather than through,
scared fresh breath of pines
will make me retch

I’m watched by a list of eyes,
tailed by some voodoo priest
giving off his dark light

can’t do new people
can’t chase a thing
taste a thing

I mostly hide tight
up in this one-window bedsit
flicking switches
experimenting with the light

no call for music,
or food

I gaze jealous down
at the playhard kids
screwing with their own wiring,
scalping tickets to fastland

they’re ready to ambush me
with scissors,
lick the medicine out

although wait for it, the icing:
my phone is dead

(I killed it)

but enough of me,
how are you?

please accept this
small peace offering:
a freshly picked
of eyelashes

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