Far Past Tears

but no closer
to understanding     weakened but
not wise          the pain
like pissing trowels        cisterns
of wart juice for
the insurgents        ditches of self
appraisal      bright cruel
morning mirrors       a witchís eyes
moaning feral salivating love
I live by the code
of no code       and I have no idea
how best one should get
through this thing to the
endless black sleep

Whatever it is it is mad

Donít get used
to the insanity       rancid tonsils
and black breath down my neck      we are taught
to worry     guilt     it isnít
natural     (yes it is)     we are
so deep in the trap we canít
see out     we think this
is the world     we think
this is life     whatever it is it is mad
from roots to feathers     foundation
of quicksand     migraine of
truth       and the screams

Each Breath A Form

my smile army as a man      each breath a form
of humiliation          shame deep as memory

everybody is so satisfied and cruel             the very fundamentals unbalances

me      rat skeletons in the cedar chest           zombies
in the humidor      heartaches maturing

into murder

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