Tuesday, July 13, 2010

speckled man

It’s not so much that you crouch and pummel the tennis balls through the walls that frown me//

A clown of forgiveness, I take in coffee cups as tokens of your coins
Assuaging the tunnel of wilted guilt//

The frozen slices of grapefruit teardrops that flake off your skin
Breathe to me madness//

In your hallway proudly stands a headless mannequin
Ribs, skeleton, I smell the sickness of up north

You continue drifting to the poles
An iceberg lettuce salad
Calorie-less, empty as a watery crunch,
Shards dissipating in heavy clouds.

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