« Home | A Request To No One » | The Writing » | Smoking » | What Comes Next » | Watching You » | The Milkman. and The maid. » | The Universe Announce » | Where It's Not Haiti » | The Point of An Ending » | The Acquaintance »

Curses

Unmarvelled presentations blacken a wall.
They have spent into an extravagance of eyes
Far more worthy our affect is this minute fault
This arranged linear on a plate,
It's planar and harsh. Beautiful, in a word.
Jest however you want, my belief in cheap is nothing
To this, to think I enable fakings of scripture

An imaged foretelling in curses is even told out loud
My friends, merit these propellers' last action
Their tedious tenure is to pay off
To a ghost, it's given. To bisons, it's real
Delay my hanging, I can sieve more dust. I become an aging
Vulva, like a republic on hold. I admit, I awaken
In you birthing pythons unwilling to skin
Of alternatives what shall my face fake?
Where in assault can dying be clay?
It moves me that I am queried, addressed, centered.
But your set targets move swift and I, a failed arrow
Only hit what hurts

I love it how you do these last lines.

I sense a bunch of clowns in this piece that need to be skinned alive.

Post a Comment