Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Within The Ropes


puffy and aged
caramel running through
my veins
with sugar boat feet
tender with
every step
across this
blanketed floor

why smile
when the hatred
is strong?
 I cut across
the wrist with a
copper red razor
and the salt line
that pumps
everything brown
into my resin heart
lets loose

a yeast infection
in my dying ears
with no intention
to fight off the  vices
that let the
pain just
roll  in
like sick blood waves
splattered across
the pubic brine

and who among us
will get in the ring
to stomp me
out of a 40 year old funk?
this squeezing ennui
that causes heart attacks
in most victims
   but not me
 as the sitar plays
in decadence
of the lotus position
 the smoking lust of
pure thighs
all tied up
and ready for
a bareback collapse

this evening
with milky riots
shining like
a million gold coins
in the diseased
water fountain
from which the
dogs of war
drink from

lapping up every last drop

so
find me here
open your strawberry eyes
and take a gander
at the misfortune
that surrounds me
like a bad habit
aura

like nicotine fingers
in your army green panties
feeling my way around
the Braille clitoris
rubbing for the moan
the sound of you
coming closer to
the finish line
while
the band ends its march
across your bedroom floor
and the tuba player
puts his hands up
in the stale air
as the trumpeter
pulls the trigger
and to the surprise
of everyone
it is
I
who
lands on the floor
with a bloody
thump
signaling
the end
of this once
proud family man

and the ropes are
torn off the ring
and the bell
chimes loud
echoing in the
frosted January
air

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