Saturday, January 25, 2014

Lunar Migraine

Lunar Migraine

A heavy pressure on the head, a
bearing down,

a bearing down onto the head by
something quite heavy, a pressure,
something like:

sleep needed, not had
woman wanted, not got
a looming menstrual blush,

ensuing algae bloom.

You are a Pompeiian shadow of
good times, long-enough-ago-
begotten, and THUS:

I do not love you, I do not love you,
I do not love you,

agonizing, boring valkyrie.

I was warned that this moon,
this full and tiresome moon,
would be antagonistic.

Never-you-mind, I figured it,
beneath a simple white sheet,
with Pound, and clothed
in mens underwear.

Yet I am well met by cranial
bad dream, and I dreamt of you
last night, dreamt of touching
you

as if tidepooling

and woke quite crippled,

tracked my location to a gloomy
seaside stretch of loam,
somewhere between
sorrow and bullshit

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