______
______
1.
______
There are no doctors here,
so enough to speak of,
or any that might be of medical use.
______
Somebody that might have helped
the pile of torn
that rests at the foot of my bed at least.
______
Passing whispers along like zippers
shrugged downward and open enough
to display the victim object like a
ballroom with room enough to dance in.
______
______
2.
______
My tonsil still seems with the coffin smell
formulaed by parts of panting and
decided shades of ruin.
I stop forth with stamped regret
of all the things I left to rot,
to turn green,
to be wantonly forgotten
and – yet – still hot.
______
______
3.
_____
I’ve been known by some
by the name Gregory, or Greg
mostly,
but not one ever calls me that
anymore.
______
A man put down
for awhile
this Greg, or Gregory
pats along enough volts
to count well enough alone.
_____
_____
4.
_____
I saw the stance of gangrene boys
held like headaches in my hand.
____
As if through a magnifying glass,
I shudder at their details.
_____
Tempered by tawdry fuck-yes wonder
they feel minor each time I stance at them.
_____
I jury the pool even held a bit naughty,
and burn their bits to absolute bits
nouned right this time.
_____
_____
5.
_____
and such break of combos
attributed along to things
better left unremembered
_____
someone said to me,
“you need another toothbrush,
and I can get you one if you like”
_____
and he did but that didn’t stop
the teeth from falling splat
_____
_____
6.
______
I would say I wouldn’t sing,
I wouldn’t do anything but clean.
______
The boys chorus seems stupider still,
and still I don’t sing.
______
A tongue still repressed along
for the evening neww,
the posse or corpse puddle
I still have time to deal with.
____
If this room held you and me,
I’d stop the room from happening
and turn off the TV.
______
______
8.
______
If we were to be left alone,
like the bodies ourselves are usually left,
this truth would be kept as such
_____
and just as soon kept left alone.
______
And yet I sit here hearing it all
with limited fact in front of my my face:
______
A fact still left as such and still
something to quandary over.
______
______
_______
_______
)_______
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_______
______________
________________
________________
________________
____________________
______________________
__________________________
____________________________
The seventh poem of this particular series has been excised, without noted cause.
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