Thursday, December 22, 2011

ships in the night
who are we on the days when
the beauty does not flow from us
organically and the drugs wear off
and we are left with
our friends who stand in
for all the things we wish
we were and were not
encapsulated neatly like
benzodiazepines or
Russian dolls

i do sometimes wish we
were pumped full of blacke humour
like Galen supposed and life were
a hydraulic system of
leeching and letting
absorption and osmotic learning

and i love like madam
curie loved radium or
burroughs loved the needle
clawing for selective destruction
and stasis when freedom
curls up with a
soliciting purr beside
the fleshy thighs and
dimpled cheeks of
my covetous

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