Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Wheat I/Wheat II


My hand broke this morning
I cannot choke chickens
Hillbilly hand fish
Or kill fucking lions
Lions, in the coliseum
The bar
Fed to the lions like the gladiators
But skinny
Skinny gladiators without armor
Without
Will
Without
Death
Skinny fucking gladiators in skinny fucking jeans
Cutting lions with pens and paper
Cutting lions with…. Nooks?
Fuck
       I have lost weight
From Cancer
From feeding my keeper
Feeding my zoo keeper
The crowds at this coliseum
This bar
This keeper is a fucking lion
A killer
A fucking killer
Like Paul
Fucking Paul
A fucking Lion in a bare man’s feet
The bare feet of men
Bare bones
Bear chested
“Where are the gladiators!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Fuckin killin it man
I’m killin it man
I am a goddamn gladiator
A goddamn killer
A goddamn fool
A bare man
Dirt from bare men
From their feet
From between the toes of time
Sand
Grit
And shit
I have cancer
A,
Cancer
From my keeper
My killer
My feet
My Bear
From my chest
My dirt
My skinny
Fuck
From Paul maybe
Or that goddamn Hawaiian shirt
Or the crowds who are killing it, 
Man
Killin Man
Killin 
Me
And my Lions
I am a lion
I am teeth and flesh and noise
I am bone
I am in hiding
I am nothing
Until I am
Sound
I am sight
I am sick
and in your throat
I am Jesus
I am wood
I am steel
I am hanging
Rope
Bodies
And ghosts
I am Batman
And guns
I am guns
And a show
I am dead
I am the third day
I am a stone
I am stoned
I was stoned
I am a woman
Before a man
Before the apple
I am the apple
I am touch
and tit
Between the sheets
Off the books
I am a fucking gladiator
Going home
Going places
Going, Going, Gone
I am History
a Phantom
I am a phantasm
An orgasm
I am dreaming
I am Jack
I am Jackin Off
Gettin it done
I am a mess
I am drunk
I am broken
I am a gladiator
A lion
A pool of blood
I am run out
I am strung out
I am fight
I am tight
I am unstrung
unsung
I am in
I am her
I am in her
I am in and out
I am outta here
I am a minute
I am a man
I am a minute, man
I am lost
I am ink
I am this poem
I am this poem
I am fighting
This poem



For open link night at dverse poets pub


3 comments:

  1. The emotion here is reminiscent of a Ginsberg howl.

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  2. dang...intense...the clipped lines really help convey it...i hope you do not literally have cancer as it has touched my family greatly...

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  3. Thank you very much for reading guys. Your comments are always very much appreciated
    Brian, no, not literally.

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