aarghh this strength
sapping mercury
heading north
ah lemon
cut down
gay splashes
as in the ads
oh to drink
soak up
submerged
to the shins
through pores
enlivened earth
and living souls
would check
to the lees in
the appropriate box
but the lemon
squeezed to
its last drop is
inevitably caustic
and what can anyone
do about it
and I’ll look from
the darkness at
the stone blotting out
the sun you
will see a wall hiding
the door keeping out
the light
come I’ll show you
my cave and yours
would be to
roll the boulder
across its mouth
after I am inside
of course it shall be
the weight you have
carried on your chest
she pushes her pupils out
and her eyebrows rise
in mock surprise she
shakes her head
at all that naiveté
and the feckless poseurs
that dot this world myself
not the least of them but a son
Give me a fever
And il be one
Of them madmen
Shouting
A burning of the brain
Along the tender lines
That feed it
And id have felt
What a man possessed means
Bask in its busy glory
And find contentment
in disturbed states and
the filament shaking
the past
march past
march hare
rushing past
rushmore
engraved past
graveness
entombed past
pastime what
does time care
how it passes
how it passed
so parcels and
in them
ingredients
for a repast
and a taste left
on the tongue
everything that
is eating me
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