about the Biggest Worry of the Dead
i have a heart of fluid tar
i've shut the sun down
in my garden
full of mornings and sleepy eyes
you rest in my stare of steel
in a numb flowershell
there is violent discrepancy
between my desires in general
and the slow trouncing
of days in pastel that are
bleaching into transparency
the fresh air
and the calm and lonely trees in the park
are making me dizzy
the pulsating dropping
of sweat drops on to the soft ground
reminds me of my heart
that gloating skeleton birds
have flushed it down the toilet
in the incognito room
of this something
that is called
the temporarily unforgotten world
Poetry by Sanchez
Read 659 times
Written on 2007-10-17 at 13:17
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