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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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ROB PLATH notes upon my sickly crew my Suicide has lost both its physique & its mystique it lags hind me now an obvious ugly cow my Birth crawls at my heels its one big tooth a constant reminder digging into my Achilles tendon my Madness walks arm in arm w/me i elbow it in the ribs when its sneaky other hand tries to pickpocket the sane parts of my brain my Love collapsed miles & miles back i attempted to give it CPR it puked in my mouth & then died my Loneliness rides heavy upon my shoulders grinding its sad gray crotch against the back of my skull & my Death, ah my Death is wagging its sweet ass in front of me i keep kicking it a few feet ahead not quite ready for its hot lapdance full of maggots bugs climb my abyss there are kafkaroaches running up & down my arms while i lay in my sartretude their absurd antennae itching my nothingness rob plath is a 40 year old poet from new york. he is widely published in the small press. he also has 7 chapbooks & one full length collection 'a bellyful of anarchy' (epic rites 2009). |
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