Saturday 12 September 2009

say, hope you're better than the rest because you talk a good game

i take pink slips in my hand, i slide them on my fingers as i wrap elastic around my wrist while it is burning because i like the way the pain pinches my skin.

i move from place to place and very soon i shall be settled.

i find a dark place in my head for a banquet of peaches and cheeses to be layed out.

i find a dark place in my heart.

how very very depressing.

Tuesday 8 September 2009

"I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world" (Walt Whitman)

i tried to help my mother
her cough was quite bad
she is wheezing and choking

a scar, on her brow
a knot in her stomach dies
her blood is wrong still