Monday, December 6, 2010

I was clutching at something today
right in my center
there is a black
tangled ball
of string
if you look closely
the threads are
made of tuning forks
and mysteriously
and inconsistently
their resonance
warms my insides
but sometimes
when they are soaked in liquor
they swell and expand
until I feel the pressure
in my stomach
and I think
I have to do something
or else I'm going to die

but what I never realize
is that death was not an option
it's automatic and unchosen

like being born or
shitting your pants after
slurring your dying words
and you were never a part
of the negotiations

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