Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Saturn: the Reaper

an excerpt from a longer piece I'm working on:

"To comprehend a nectar requires sorest need" says Emily Dickinson.

To comprehend-- the act of comprehending. Sort of like understanding, but more all-of-a-sudden. Like "OH!" and then you've got it.

Sorest need-- the most denied need. That which you don't have and haven't had at all the most.

Am I a nectar?

I don't comprehend I am so perhaps I'm not in sorest need.

Even though my need is sore

nectar is sweet.

all the way d




the rabbit hole
I smell it.
Sweet as cherry pie
in the oven
          hot            hot                hot
my need so 
     HOT       HOT         HOT

so uncomprehending
my desires to be
apple acorn and pooch.

to butter-up Time
and listen-tick the up and up..... tock.

got to
smell it.
the lost dead terminal morphos
of Time stopped at the corner
of Blue and Crabcake street
also known as Lonely and Shitty st.
at the intersection of LAST and FUCKED corner.
the up and up.

tick-----------------------------tock of the
rope around my chest the
TICK.TOCK of one swipe,
two swipes of the knife.

Butter it up.
Smooth it in.
Slice it down.

one swipe.
two swipes.

in the hole.

and out again.


No comments:

Post a Comment