I coffined my books and buried them
Right under my bed where I rocked
Upon wayward wanton lumps of flesh
And dipped my head into hell–its jelly sticky water,
That turned my sight into a wall masonry
Now I am digging love back out of that grave
Bone by bone. One half-decayed tissue after another.
- This is not a … What? Let me think.
A poem? Prose? (Self-talking: “Poetry?”)
Jesus Christ, I don’t have got no name.
This is not a …
This is a …
Fuck. Leave it.