Wednesday, March 21, 2012


heathen is twisted in a tangled knot
cannot negotiate this knot

i am falling asleep in a little boy's bed
with Mr. Badger and wool blankets

there was an inevitability to it
i could never have let it lie

not after the first thoughtless scraps (chatchat)
i know myself that well at least

and intimacy.


from that moment forward the poison

imbibed, digested

not the nakedness, arching
tongue or teeth

before all that
the shadow puppets

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