"mememe" poems
butterknives lithe.
garbage disposal yoga.
oger cortisol dump.
i guess i'll jus eat my teeth now
and face me.
heartmaw
must
feed.
i have no reason
-or imagination-
anymore
to
stay
here.
not really..
----- pls feel all the feels for me.
this melo d is real,
i swear.
my torn tears tear
down this face
encased in rusty bladelace.
yours diaphanously,
mememe.
its so
*******
sad
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
this is how the imagination is made:
your tiny origami world gets torn;
then, yer mememe death comes by way of small paper cuts;
from the periphery of this rip, you swim upstream, again,
till you see the fēniks wing glinting like a finger ring careening off the sun.
hmm's and err's now populate yer thinky time
like never before, here in Cleverly Folded Paper World.
t h e r e you are;
mmm, you feel the feels even more,
and the refresh bubbles up from the torn.
but still the big cut creeps back ---
x out old you; new document, anew anew, stares, blinking, waiting.
edits forever bloom steely wutabtme? iridium spiels around edges
of tattooed white petals, elegant writs fell; wilting; seeding...
this world, too, must be cut to fit:
if you wish to have a home for the iNGkē worm
that sillily dreams of one day winning its wings.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC