ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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closmprescient impressions of you closed, jammed, into my skull locked there for weeks like knotted weeds nesting growing a compact root ball increasing daily the tension till a crack, a little sound a clock ticking or a ships rigging snap marks a tidal shift then - PLOSION!! you are all over the place all over my life, my face the mess in my notebooks is full of you, i am breathing in time with your breathing there is nothing left of my brain my skull just bits and pieces of broken flowerpots and messy roots and soil and tangled blue flowers i wonder at the hours till dawn the grate crackling my head full of fire bombed with visions unending modulating parachuting down to be lanced on a pulsating tremulous quill end and i rock with my head in my hands through the hours till the cool grey light of dawn ![]() Poison Bomb 2011 |
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