Tuesday, July 14, 2009

your damn fault

your fault i am even out here
isaias; triplet monographs
mouth-burned mumblers
the lot of you

crack-lipped, numb
pustuled prophets

i've shattered not a single yoke

i've taken every one in hand, and
they don't even bend

no light springing forth
no listening ear

just we like oxen dragging ourselves behind us

if you mouth(s) had never been burned
i would be smooth-lipped
maybe gainful, maybe
yoked yet

better if we had not met

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