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lauren-cPoems
‘Are you all cured now?’ Oh, darling, if only you knew. (But I’m a monument of Self-restraint, whittled from Rotting wood. Ragged shards Chip off, jagged splints. The eyes deep wells - an imperfect Effigy, of sorts. Even now I’m burning up, and awfully so. Thick and stifling, the air bates And provokes me. As the season turns, I’m patched with canvas sacks - For a time my steely gaze Kept the birds away, but now I’ve gone to seed, flaking Dry brushwood and sown with doubt. I grow strangely bulbous At the centre, starlings nesting And feeding near my abdomen). I have questions of my own, You know, and they all beg answers. But yours, well, it came to me Innocently, cut clean and smooth Like a butter knife. A token Offering, an afterthought. I’ve preserved one half our Peace of mind. My satisfaction, You see, is a solitary one: It tastes pungent, sweet, and Maddeningly powerful.
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
Afterthought
‘Are you all cured now?’ Oh, darling, if only you knew. (But I’m a monument of Self-restraint, whittled from Rotting wood. Ragged shards Chip off, jagged splints. The eyes deep wells - an imperfect Effigy, of sorts. Even now I’m burning up, and awfully so. Thick and stifling, the air bates And provokes me. As the season turns, I’m patched with canvas sacks - For a time my steely gaze Kept the birds away, but now I’ve gone to seed, flaking Dry brushwood and sown with doubt. I grow strangely bulbous At the centre, starlings nesting And feeding near my abdomen). I have questions of my own, You know, and they all beg answers. But yours, well, it came to me Innocently, cut clean and smooth Like a butter knife. A token Offering, an afterthought. I’ve preserved one half our Peace of mind. My satisfaction, You see, is a solitary one: It tastes pungent, sweet, and Maddeningly powerful.
lauren-c
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lauren-c
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
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