Friday 9/28/2007 12:58:00 AM

Arrows on her face. Libelous lips. Poor janitors soft in the mess. Don't sleep. Don't try to name those children. Tiny anchors keeping huge ships in dock. By the whisper of dead demons. By the funnel in conversation. The toil of dead things with limbs still quite erect. We were always there.

Stupid tigers hunting without their stripes. Lazy abortions letting the child be born. In proud confessions that shame those dead saints. The drumsticks still on their plates. As the last ice cube melts in their glass. The future running on weak knees toward an uncontrolled intersection.

The trivia of me. Stuck under their fingernails. The ugly comes in sneezes. It gets stuck in my face.

The hours vomit up on themselves in a fetid ritual. Crayola rejects build their own box of colors. The pages dressed for the dance memorizing the taillights of the limo.

I don't know. Don't even want to know why. It's so easy to laugh lately.

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