Wednesday, May 13, 2009

We Are Such Stuff

I turned my back
To the lasting skin of everything
Of dirt and perfume and everything
due these glum pleasures.
Lethargy poisons certainty like
cleverness lost in a lifetime of night.
An old queen steeped in a mountain of teeth
Delicate pity page after page
Looking up and waiting
For the philosophy of yes to move in and
Organize the funeral of thinking.

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