Soldier in tantrum school
Rifling upwards on airs
To balloon-soar his tears
I’m fluttering underwater
Like a newspaper on an autumn
Roadside, flower food
Forgotten and particular
To what counts in remaining.
Solid waste water
In the runoff slough
You contaminate me to bite
Marks, I’m searching beneath
My own skin to remove
Your disease, art-bruise,
Points its rifle at my head
And waits for me to change.
Friday, September 22, 2006
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