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Cliché
Contributed by
savingmarion
on
Monday, 14th February 2005 @ 08:22:03 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
The sleeping tax has been ravenous in fiction,
Since this hairy coma tickled a noose
Around my panic.
At the cost of a sweaty pair of shackles,
It used to drag ice picks across my chest.
And that was only the foreskin,
Of everything illegitimate in its smile.
It was pedagogical in pretence,
Right up until the tapeworm’s ugly torso,
Beat its way inside my thighs.
In heat, I used to cough aloud,
“Just please marry me,
When this execution is over.”
Some call it anaplasty, when slipping,
That Botox in the sores.
I prefer taxidermy but I have not the words to say.
All I know is that when your tissue sinks,
Underneath my fingernails,
I’ll want it less but need it more.
Copyright ©
savingmarion
... [
2005-02-14 20:22:03]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Cliché
(User Rating: 1 )
by Essentially9 on
Monday, 14th February 2005 @ 10:09:07 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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| interesting thoughts couldnt have been written better. |
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Re: Cliché
(User Rating: 1 )
by sojourner on
Tuesday, 15th February 2005 @ 12:27:59 AM AEST
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interesting piece,I'd call it a jumbled mass of sanity
sojourner, |
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Re: Cliché
(User Rating: 1 )
by Bohemian_with_a_pen on
Tuesday, 15th February 2005 @ 02:09:28 AM AEST
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| interesting.. i love it |
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