Inspiracy.

April 15, 2008 at 7:28 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 10 Comments
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Now that noone reads me no more cos my pottery is broke except people who have already read far too much of me, ohh he says, flicking his towel, i can speak my own language, i can give examples,

MERCY

he is sitting on the beach behind his sandcastle
with something long and white hanging out of his mouth
like a half swallowed lure,

i shall antihaiku all night thru,
dance my wicked games on you,
no safety nor surprise will do,
until i see that purple moon,

later wandering aimless down the beach, cheap wine
and a four day growth, chisel, man!
i’m shipping steel, yeah, shipping steel,

in the dawn a billion soldier crabs
through some strange signal
dissappeear like a blue sheet
evaporating into the sand

and he is still carrying the knife
in one hand and in the other
the trophy, neither fish,
nor man,

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