Tuesday, December 8, 2009

learnings



when i walk no one cares where i go

i’m as free as a ghost here.


i am unconventionally winged and i have been stuck in amber

three thousand years of fog and sun.


i read of a king. the king of ireland when ireland had kings;

named


Anguish.


he proved to be persuadable.


it occurs to me that i have worshipped

vice and called it character


attempted alchemical madness

with dylan thomas as defense


and everything i touched permeated

with poison


hind sight beholds

the time i’ve spent


tried to defy

gravity:


truth

sinks.


there’s nothing to fear any more

(that was not a pretty sight)


what is genuine is much quieter than that


in the middle of the highway it pauses staring

through the night

with wolfish eyes


it’s not nothing.


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