Jan 31 2011
∞
conscious curse yes
A bleeding orange upon a skin of brown
like a liquefied peel dripped upon wood
in the sky, down to the fields, an evening,
half-sky, half-tilled-produce of the time of men.
*snip*
“…orange in a brief repose, languid scent
of the repose, yes, repose in the nostrils
no the nose yes repose in the nose upon
every cell of the nose an orange repose yes”
*snip*
Rusted bars of the cell this prison now
caught in the ever-conscious life behind
in prison you cease forgetting in dreams
for the pain of waking, yes orange rusted bars
And one scene upon another…
And I am the perforations yes.
(6 notes / )
