I tear it limb from
limb
definitely carnal, I'd say
(although not very gory--
it's cooked) the grease coats my
insides my fingers are shiny
my nails get a sheen as
the skin slips between
my hands my lips my
tongue it
tastes
so warm and wet and substantial
a real thing
a live (dead) thing it tastes
good

How much gradation in a
graduation?  is it a final line
declining to be either here
or
there? I'd like more
gray
in my ceremonies

It's a long way to fall (the season, I
mean) just spring has
come just
now
but when can it be
fall
again?

It Off
Rock & Roll
All over from a bullet shooting just
past your ear so
close you can smell the
powder the fire the
lack
of lifeblood in the open
air

I see you go towards
the light of
streetlamps, get ******
right up into the heart
of the electric fire
and
burn
(or melt I
suppose)

How long
does a new year last? only until it
grows older, grows up and out crawls
first in spring, then
walks on to winter but when
exactly
precisely
does the year turn from New to
Old why are Old years never
happy?

a Typical Self-pity Poem this
is... see my list
of perfect woeful moans:
I ache all over from
crying alone and
clenching my jaw and
scraping the bone
I crave independence
but cannot bear it without
help
I know too much to think
I hate my world--
yet I preserve it in ink