thoughts, for a woman
because politically-minded, i bought and sold
my hungers, slathering at the mouth quite secretly, in magnetic
colors, like dogs going down the slalom in little jackets,
because your hair was the color of midnight.
a long and shining sluice like nuit's, but
the stars spangling nuit's hair were in your eyes.
which maybe makes your eyes thieves of nuit's hair's stars.
i don't care much about that though. want--
red. want red. making myself ill: thoughts, mine,
spin, like a haunch on a vertical spit in a case. because i run
until i stop. like the mechanized rabbit on a dogtrack, i stop at you.
because i defy art and i defy stars and i defy you--because
i defy--things that i want most--defy--all over them.
deity is for things i don't care about. i don't care about much.
i want you. want you. want you best, fresh. want to eat you. most.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
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