| | The flesh-eating stilletto
gleams and dances in the air,
a flashing killing whirly-wing
making loop-de-loops of my life.
This beam of clenched metal
plunged into me,
it pecked a hole in the side of me
and padded its nest of sadness there.
The overhanging balcony of my skull,
Of my youth, is dark.
My poor friend my heart
has gone gray.
There is no force so deadly
as that spiraling ray,
I dwell on things past
like the moon over a small town.
I scrape my tear-salt with a rake
I scourge my soul with my lashes.
I festoon my depression
with the petals of cobwebs.
Where can I go that
my ruination won't come looking?
You stop at the seashore
But I am called out to sea.
There's no rest from the work
of the hurricane of love,
or of hell, that sadness just
goes on and on.
Sooner or later I will do you in, my heart,
my bird and lightning bolt
from out of the earth, for you
have warranteed my death.
So keep turning, knife,
keep spinning and flying and carving.
One day the yellowing of time
will settle on my snapshot.
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| | Posted 11/21/2006 1:07 PM - 486 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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