Monday, July 16, 2007


Shut up, I'm in the middle of something
Maybe brain damage
Maybe masochism
Maybe slithered steps on icy sidewalks at dawn
Or paniced chicken scratch on bathroom walls
the fear that someone may come spying
Who sucked who?
What happened to your father
I mean in the late night moments
When you were hard and tearing
Slipping presciptions into your pillow case
Begging God for some self-holocaust
Sniffing veins into your nose and a prayer to stop the bleeding
The sun comes on you like a rock shuffle
You beg and beg, but a beggar gets dimes
And you want dollars

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