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freds-not-deadPoems
You tracked it down Watched the water go light pink Watched the light go in and out You’ve been shaded You dragged it a mile down the river With your bare Hands The sun left and you saw The moon Shoot up just for you With its drugged-up glow You should have done this long ago Screamed and smeared Danced with guts still warm Elbow deep in the heart of it. You think about getting an apple For the mouth But that’s been done so many times It wouldn’t mean anything Your stomach turns Hunger you guess You have to bleed it dry Just to eat It beats cleaning dead bugs Out of the sink Its beats loneliness It beats until the heart’s left out of this and the rest of it There won’t be any leftovers No flowers No ceremony It’s not that type of ending Your hands are stained for days Your thoughts too Keep waiting for your pulse and things to quiet down Sure, it’s comforting Sure, it’s been like thing forever But you’ve thrown away so much of it You could have kept some of the insides But you were afraid -scared shitless- you wouldn’t know what to do with it.
0
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 7:57 AM UTC
Hunting Not Gathering
You tracked it down Watched the water go light pink Watched the light go in and out You’ve been shaded You dragged it a mile down the river With your bare Hands The sun left and you saw The moon Shoot up just for you With its drugged-up glow You should have done this long ago Screamed and smeared Danced with guts still warm Elbow deep in the heart of it. You think about getting an apple For the mouth But that’s been done so many times It wouldn’t mean anything Your stomach turns Hunger you guess You have to bleed it dry Just to eat It beats cleaning dead bugs Out of the sink Its beats loneliness It beats until the heart’s left out of this and the rest of it There won’t be any leftovers No flowers No ceremony It’s not that type of ending Your hands are stained for days Your thoughts too Keep waiting for your pulse and things to quiet down Sure, it’s comforting Sure, it’s been like thing forever But you’ve thrown away so much of it You could have kept some of the insides But you were afraid -scared shitless- you wouldn’t know what to do with it.
freds-not-dead
Written by
freds-not-dead
Canadian
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 7:57 AM UTC
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