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"reinsert" poems
they say stop don't do it too much ease up slow down are you content, let alone happy, with anything? they didn't seem to think so the dry benzo sting stuck in my mouth for an hour or so a rough jostle into a rushed sobriety we'll have to reinsert the catheter so don't squirm too much we don't have any anesthetic left good luck
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
cotton swabs
the ship was underwater before it could be properly evacuated and i was drunk in the captain's quarters with a switchblade to his throat he missed a spot when he was shaving that morning and i offered my services a spot on the canvas of my mitochondrial conditioning my dendrites receive no stimulation as i laugh so i feel nothing as usual crack my clenched teeth in a practice of proper response eliciting reinsert the breathing tube and rip the catheter out of me no
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC
untitled 4
I arose from my slumber without sleeping a wink A twinkle of that dreamstate left over from days of yore A bore. I must reinsert myself into the meatgrinder After lollygagging in that idyllic state of freedom that doesn't exist as long as I need money to live, to thrive, to survive The mountain we slog always catching the scent of the next tender morsel of that dream we hardly remember from the night before the night before the last time we awoke in that place, our best friend held our hand and took us to that desired land filled with everything we never had as children eyes brimming with stars beyond horizons promised to us in storybooks detailed tales of heroes who set sails chasing whales our own tails our own tales never matching the patterned struggles that we could easily overcome sung and spun before we were born by people with common ancestral lines times required spines now made with increased output but inferior quality broken easily in instances easily overcome or never imagined in the flowing garment of time ever lengthening to capture these expanding moments manufactured and sold in greater quantities than before more bottles to hold the sweat of downtrodden children and then sold in extreme dilution to people people who wouldn't seem like people to our grandparents people who've never earned a single callus peasants who've never earned a single social faux-pas and been ostracized from squares masquerading as circles on halloween only or maybe other stolen holidays we are the skeleton holding your obese mass we are always malnourished, but expected to sustain we are the marrow creating white blood cells to fight the new diseases that we gladly pay for so we can be sick or just appear so in our dreams or was that something I saw on tv? hard to say sometimes
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 7:01 AM UTC
sparkly illness curing disease
I arose from my slumber without sleeping a wink A twinkle of that dreamstate left over from days of yore A bore. I must reinsert myself into the meatgrinder After lollygagging in that idyllic state of freedom that doesn't exist as long as I need money to live, to thrive, to survive The mountain we slog always catching the scent of the next tender morsel of that dream we hardly remember from the night before the night before the last time we awoke in that place, our best friend held our hand and took us to that desired land filled with everything we never had as children eyes brimming with stars beyond horizons promised to us in storybooks detailed tales of heroes who set sails chasing whales our own tails our own tales never matching the patterned struggles that we could easily overcome sung and spun before we were born by people with common ancestral lines times required spines now made with increased output but inferior quality broken easily in instances easily overcome or never imagined in the flowing garment of time ever lengthening to capture these expanding moments manufactured and sold in greater quantities than before more bottles to hold the sweat of downtrodden children and then sold in extreme dilution to people people who wouldn't seem like people to our grandparents people who've never earned a single callus peasants who've never earned a single social faux-pas and been ostracized from squares masquerading as circles on halloween only or maybe other stolen holidays we are the skeleton holding your obese mass we are always malnourished, but expected to sustain we are the marrow creating white blood cells to fight the new diseases that we gladly pay for so we can be sick or just appear so in our dreams or was that something I saw on tv? hard to say sometimes
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