Saturday, November 3, 2007

The poem I would have written in 7th grade if I wasn't listening to so much Reba

the celibate moon
holds me by the throat
I wait coughless
suspended over her metal water
over her printless sand

it is not enough to breathe now
my lungs water full
my lips on earth
my skeleton
the glowing grey sarcophagus
of my past

my unbroken past
bending under the pressure
of her immaculate stare.


Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

you are so stupid it is not even funny