The Nexus of the Poets Birth, or: Beating the Ocean With A Stick Once Again
Posted to Poetry
by Anvil Legal on 2003-08-06 00:57:00
A person resembles their sibling
in the same manner that
I resemble the myself in dreams.
I started a fight in elementary school.
It was with sex and the inevitable.
Here I am nursing rollicking defeats.
Here I am stomping on a frozen lake to get warm.
A repose?
Women in white and men mailing flowers?
I rolled over and felt the bare back of a woman.
She was in a bed that I often sleep upon.
I became confused:
why am I not the body I touch?
whose hair is this?
did I do something that drives me to the wilderness,
away from the charming swine
that squeal in content?
A single thought exploded
and grew a nest of vines
which constricted my vision
forevermore
