Have played
Rhythms from our small, faceless machines
To quiet ourselves, to scrub while mire from our
Cake, crust inside our pin beds, our spirit beds, our
For calm, & the water
Gurgling—those reedy electronic notes symphoning
Above that continual thrum of city, hurry of social
Soothes, for a moment, the fangless ache,
The dry-socket nub we language & tongue.
For a moment, we’re drowning inside the afterbirth
Seal-slick & flat-headed past such platitudes
Molecules formed our dust. Before
We split not shut blacknighted while a gore clot
From the pulmonary thrombosis of a mothered
Universe. Her timeless implode.
#Living #Life Choices #The Mind
No comments:
Post a Comment