Communicator, cooker, drinker, poet. Grew up in a mining town, wore a hard hat.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

ativan period space

i am too depressed to bother with punctuation which is a rare occurance commas were my first love each word now a burden my fingers slow and shaky i fail to produce a better adjective and i am ashamed i would like very much to bury myself in a steaming pile of my lover's laundry a womb to heal this heartbeat which continues to race to burn to lament those hideous perfections to which i remain unentitled say the cosmos CEASE! the rogue syllable echoes between barren walls tumbling about the room taunting the pleasures of this sequence crumbling more rapidly with every passing beat say the cosmos CEASE! and with that a string of expletives angry beads of acid rain heaped upon the cambrian shield in both languages don't ever dare to ask me which and at last ellipsis the ativan has found me ellipsis wading through my own words young ideas like thick mud binding me to my position comma lest i leave my shoes behind period the ativan has found me like a drunk mother or a fat dog failing to love me with the life-changing passion of smack but quieting the cosmos ellipsis moderating the beat nonetheless