Saturday, 21 April 2012

Coming of age

From slept sweetness
to the eaten quotidian face
From green curled sense
to each flower's tyranny
From homeless vocables
to our office lieder
From living, wetsexed nite
to seen and dying day

No more wandersongs
or crushed crowns
or glistening tips
or blood filled stops of skin
or unfinished laughter
or the leafing leaves
or fungal poetry

only the common and guarded
the homogenised milk
of human kindness
spilt across the body's electrics
till it sputters and
sparks and
arches one
last time

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