As the fireworks struck insects down above
Our heads she told us the story of a friend who will
Never be satisfied by any man thanks to the horrors
She suffered at the hands of her father now she is sex
Mad but then she was only helpless and the story survived
Her because yes she was alive and always uncomfortable
On the fourth of July it sounds like war if you've lived it
You won't cheer I told them I am present within the
Material object which represents me but no one
Wants to hear about that it's like planning the
Baby's funeral before it is born.
Woke up late and the dreams kept
Peeling for a stretch of soft afternoon
Yes I am alive and this means I light cigarettes
At breakfast and then go wading in the bathtub
In a state of damp indifference I put the statue out
To sea (After it has been worshiped it must either
Be disposed of at once or worshiped daily from that
Time forward) I have been to the sea and don't believe
It has a death
No comments:
Post a Comment