I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

That day i finished
A small piece
For an obscure magazine
I popped it in the box

And such a starry elation
Came over me
That I got whistled at in the street
For the first time in a long time.

I was ***** and roughly dressed
And had circles under my eyes
And far far from flirtation
But so full of completion
Of a deed duly done
An act of consummation
That the freedom and force it engendered
Shone and spun
Out of my old raincoat.

It must have looked like love
Or a fabulous free holiday
To the young men sauntering
Down Berwick Street.
I still think this is most mysterious
For while I was writing it
It was gritty it felt like self-abuse
Constipation, desperately unsocial.
But done done done
Everything in the world
Flowed back
Like a huge bonus.

By Arcassin Burnham

Pretty flowers...
They bloom when disasters take place in a matter of hours,
Do you run and hide when the **** hits the fan,
Or do you fall to mind control wearing pair of vans,
Kick back with a can of Miller watching your lady nag your face off,
Was this the life you were planning ahead for in the future when
Everything was so simple and now you got flaws,

Ah ah not me ! My future is solidified like the back of my two front teeth,
Talk is cheap , I don't really care about your criticism , don't bother me,
I'm still on my feet, I'm not six feet deep yet so thats a plus especially,
I'll do what's right for me, I'll find a new resistance out of life though
These trees,
There's nothing to say, who cares if I get too personal any other day,
You're all in the way, I have no place here in this dump , I don't wanna
Stay,
The sweat on my face , brings so much Shame in this existence , I can't even fly
Away,
To the place I belong , I wanna go home.

/

They say get a grip on life son and I'm already two steps ahead,
About to turn into the big two-o this year , glad I'm not dead,
Lead the strong into new beginnings where the promise will be as
Promised as tomorrow,
Lived your whole life being scrutinized in societies eyes bring so
Much sorrow,
Hi I'm a citizen,
That's wonders where we'll all be in ten years,
Do we get more than a mention?
Lying to you on the news , looking at a bunch of words like it's scripted,
Yeah the devils clever too , fighting this off like a muse,
They'll erase you like you never existed,
I was never the type to be weak,
I've been mostly living around women,
It's okay cause I stayed on my feet,
Now I'm more of a man than many men.

/

Feel The agonizing pain of being in the midst of
aggravation,
I was always someone that would go right to the hatred,
When it came down to it , no one would bust a grape and,
when it came down to it i was always yours and,

No folding of the hands while praying to a God That would
be busy anyway.