Friday, April 9, 2010

.161

Fierce and violent and pushed to the edge
my soul wakes to the sonic bluster of chik-a-chik guitar and
numb from-the-spine-up basslines
that let you know the apocalypse is near.

The magnetic tension displays itself as a
fresh innocent man whose heart is devoid of essential nutrients
to live and survive
this withered carcass of a dream.

A neon expulsion of non productive waste
clears out the ridiculous warfare
that lays deep down in
my clefted soul.

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