November 12: Sleepy

November 13, 2012 § Leave a comment

Still digging through old poems, editing as I go. Tonight I started too late, because I just had to do some school work instead. Now I am too tired for any new ideas.


I am a fantastical creature
My nose is long so long I eat through nostrils
my legs are long so long they drag behind
I create ocular storms with pacing turmoil I feed on
there are no white corners inside my eyes

I am a fantastical creature
spirit of the Inner West
the moment when everything could become known
and the moment after when nothing does

I wear a textile mask
a painted servile curtseying face
with creamy red disgusting lips
Its gauze comforts my torn skin
and the sick passages inside

I would to be a panopticon
to be everything at once
in one tight space of eager breath
with such fullness of surfaces
that no corner is left hungry for sight

Meditation of course is impossible
in this kind of fullness
despite the elongated space of ten thousand years I’ve spent
trapped in a vessel
to serve predictable purposes
on a shelf in the ground in hands
to trick maidens into lewdness ancestors into rains

A waste of fantastical talents and fables:
we could be waiting for that next moment when all becomes known




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