BOOTLICKER

My God.

2008-06-10

Like a brick

like bricks and weights and infections

anxiety and grave neurosis

like a word used but not yet understood

like pain

dull, dull throbbing pain

a hand within a chest

islands betwixt seas removed

galaxies and stars and dreams and space

a cursed book, curse its powers

curse my heart and curse my love

curse the peace

its wretched dove

incompatible, and duly forced

fault

where lies the white glove?

done unto myself;

Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to Its delight:
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven’s despite.

for This is true

I warn you all

to watch yourself before you fall

and tumble, tumble

trip and graze

grieve for all the better days

.

.

II

.

.

I can only be sorry