|
UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
|
|
JUSTIN WADE THOMPSON
Walking Across The Room On Fire I walk across the room on fire swatting flames off my skin like flies. gnats. snakes. pain stuck in my arm a nest of sparrows in the bone red eyed and sharp mouths scratching. time drips away like flesh. decay. I walk across the room on fire all things burning the whole world my shoes my soul my love my money jobs neighbors mother father brothers lovers work friends bartenders doctors and dentists the guy on the street the dogs astray. flames that put every man in the ground and bring every city to rot. fire like Buddha. fire like Christ. fire like Gandhi Kafka and Joyce. I walk across the room on fire. no water not even song can save our bodies make us young again. forever. for a moment. nothing. everything born will fall to the grave. the sparrows have their revenge on the spider and the spider on the weevil and weevils on catnip and a bum smashes another bum's head with a rock. and the fire still burns. and the fire still burns. Death On Two Legs death on two legs crippled. white. red scabbed skin. staring at the checkout girl with fat, brown arms cracking his knuckles like pulling grapes from the stems. like chewing on ice. like insect wings. death on his side, naked. sucking hard on a bleeding wound while the electric-yellow light burns the virgin night, asleep. justin wade thompson was born in New Braunfels Texas and now lives humbly in a trailer park in the capitol city of Austin. he has never pursued a higher education, career, or full-time job. when he is not writing he travels the country as a touring musician. |
|
© 2004 - 2009 Underground Voices |
|
|