May 18, 2011

  • like armies marching over my spinal column

    i seem to venture forth on two legs

    despite their cacophony of putting me usunder

    bulletins and newsletters speak of a future of wonder

    but i dont feel the thunder

    as the heart does not fracture 

    has no rhythm to a beat to take

    pulsating in my consciousness i don't feel the swagger

    i don't feel awake

     

    i only breathe in some rusty sense of defeat

    and i suddenly notice that i am in fact

    asleep

    and at the wheel

    my car is swerving into my last supper

    my final meal before the zeal

    as the turn chair around to a spectacle

    and turn the switch from

    off to steal

    the shores where i lay flat and my belly grows

    till it's a future i know

    till im 100 feet in the air looking down on 

    the same ground

    till something is worth fighting for

    till something else of this world is found

    till i can hear the strawberries grow

    till i can hear some new and unbelievable sound

    till my head thrashes and forsakes

    till my eyes blind

    and shift to blink all for the break

    into the underground of a future

    where utterances are political awakenings

    and sutures hold the intestines 

    from vomiting up back out of a bag of flesh

    how many wrists can we slit

    until the paramedics turn off the sirens, go adrift

    pick up whores

    and wreck their sores

    till i'm drowning in existentialism and self loathing

    till it is on the doorstep of pain and sorrow that i go betrothing

    till it is a face fattened in filth and my heart begins slowing

    till something other than a mountain of debt stops growing

     

    maybe then the spinal column won't shift under the weight

    and fail