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You are just

The leftover

Electricity on

My tub from

Suicide

Attempts past

And I cannot

Feel those

Waves

Now too

Tremorless
all rights reserved
Andres Hernandez Oct 2011
In any mirrored face
the homeless sees nothing shuffling
from his favorite stores
At night they feel their wild
canine teeth

Words surfacing
uncollected in fragments and scratches
besde underdeveloped manors
in the city's growing mold
and buildings separated by dust like a ream of books
on the trail to the open west

Noise clock, sharp chiming
and unbearable
soot blackness of perpetual rain
pulsing faintly in a palsied
flow of the oppressive
heats and sounds

My sister is a forgotten composer of rebellion
given only the courage
to think her words will merely be
a droning
cello's moans
and preludes unsettled
and old

Without authority
someone might hear her
centuries too late
when few will give her a wait or wax cylinder
of words no better than it's tremorless
indentations unseen by the eyes and ears

The days of crystalized quartz
and effeminate handshakes and kisses
vacant gestures and the beautiful
view of the destitue on a warm
spring morning in the park
Barton D Smock Jul 2014
upon hearing
that a man
has entered
the ocean
my first
impulse
is to be

off the top
of my head

as noiseless

as the suicidal
gender
scholar

whose tremorless
hands
had feelings
for other

hands…

my second impulse is to be as speechless as my third
and my fourth

combined…

     and my last
is my breath

— The End —