Eurydice, Run
Just like Jesus I am a time machine I go away I come back they won’t let me watch things die
and the spy in the spine a hearse of sense and rumors a bundle of all that’s possible in a body
tied to its back with the babble of hypocrites and dirty rivers if you fall asleep in yellow
and awake in a bed of cotton wool with a star of nails where your heart should go and the
cosmetics of wartime blood lipping wax in a factory basement attached to a slab of maple you
do not have to love that man to slice his lips and scream what divination turned into demon by
ignoring you alone can remember and revert to God I give the woven whisper of a kid to
her first brown doll mounted to a branch of song she sings reasons that we fear our
feelings— To the dice in the tree she is singing as the torches come up throbbing and grinning
a crimson minnow in her last est lap.
2020-05-17 21:33:22
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