Friday, October 16, 2009

a pretense, someone else's or your own, sure but
the sound of lips is inarticulate without some distance
come on, when did we stop trying to make the Animal Kingdom proud

spit it out like a beached whale, crack it somewhere
in the middle, feel the bypass being stripped
not to recall the original context

each new victim must change one-third of the world
or the equivalent, if persons don't strike an overly telepathic clash:
orange powder on lids and thighs
the day swallowed instead of spit
release the antedote

kick dirt into the lungs of Atlantis, eh
pleather and nose jobs abound in this new place
no more indigenous queens dressed in white roses

i went down the hill
i went up the hill
i didn't, i did:
brainstorms in the bomb shelter just to borrow a friend
my only hangup involves sustainability being light-sensitive

in the form of professorship, in the form of Madame Curie
in the form of hydrogen, in the form of Hitler conquering Poland
in the form of reposition, in the form of sacred artifacts

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