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#1 |
Senior Member
Join Date: Jun 2013
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![]() http://netcees.co/showthread.php?t=12600
http://netcees.co/showthread.php?t=14285 Panacea 1. Emily one night I wander waywardly. Aimlessly along the rayless streets past granite shanties, befogged by rain and sleet, not one warm nook to lay and sleep then I find you. A curly little caterpillar, who'd crawled beneath the trestle sleepy, nestled in the dying Whitlow and Shepherd's-Purse that streaks the pebbles pipe still hot and redolent - your ring-less fingers scorched a coffee-hue hair as black as fossil-fuel, a dog-eared shower curtain shrugged on top of you the sign above the bar blinks apple-neon, one broke bulb is a crypt for the flies you've pissed on your thighs, head cranked back and tilted, like you're kissing the sky you're beautiful. Below the methane emissions that hang like a rainbow i lay my head on this magnanimous angel, fall fast asleep in her halogen halo she wakes. Her crystal eyes, they fall on me like breaking waves on sand and when i kneel to present the rock, she doesn't hesitate to take my hand ~ 2. Tomorrow dear Emily, you left, i descended. Every time i close my eyes, i see the eels bloated, black aliens ... wheezing with disease, more than even the streets can yield their sweltry hide's like boiled kale, moist and pale - they're eating me nowadays you're keeping clean, but I had no such grace bequeathed to me i shan't lie. The sidewalk would be softer, if i had your hand to hold had you not gone back to home, this concrete - would not be, quite so damp and cold don't you remember? How we set into motion no fettering notion of honour or pride? slinging rock on the side? - we were Ben Sanderson and Sera, we were Bonnie and Clyde regardless, i still chalk my poems on the boulevard ... maybe you read them it's like you always said, they make that little square of pavement an Eden don't worry, i won't post this letter, it would only be fueling my sorrow please love me. please love me. yours truly, Tomorrow ~ 3. Panacea now you'll see me. You fucking robot, your garden is so sickly green home so crisp and clean, ph-neutral soap, pro-plus, propane pumps and Listerine crow bar up beneath the lintel - easy, simple, tears and splinters blend with the rain it bends with the strain, the oak cracks, I hesitate - then remember the pain the guardian comes - a shabby old Terrier, hardly a vessel of speed and strength she's in less than decent health. But our eyes align and for a moment, i see myself an LP hiccups under a needle, from buzzard to beetle, creatures preserved for exhibition it's thin and brief; some inner peace - but there's no extradition from this mental prison i creep up the stairs, my whitened knuckles lightly brushing the balustrade i am afraid. But Emily, you said to me - you promised you'd never take your hand away wherever you go the pain will follow i'm just a bad dream, of course. But at least you've faced Tomorrow. Dedicated to Thrill
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Last edited by Gazette; 09-01-2013 at 10:36 AM. |
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