ForkWord
Poems by Inchiki
prosaic fusebox doll
empty paper
fills her head
while the unspent impulses
play themselves out internally
i seek an inky end
a suitable epilogue
to useless hours
of woeful wanking
and unwisely tweaking thoughts
passtimes appropriate
to the dejected fop
internal wires pop
one by one and fizz
with the effort of creation
the flashes of insight
have left her a face of burnt holes
vacantly unable to follow conversations
when her lips elope with my words
it's like
dragged onto the bank
a body afloat on the river
was fed patient breaths
but spirit freed from flesh
won't easily return
maybe i have just one more spark in me for you
the voltage burns from the temples down
when suddenly i touch the paper
- and with a jolt
the heartbeat returns -
i turn you on
and you turn on me
my scarred creature
a whole lifetime of effusions i have built
to fill this restaurant bill
attack that plate
flap your lips at food
i spoon my loveliest words at you
as if you were capable of eating
