THIS IS A POEM ABOUT THE LOCATION OF WORDS AND THE BEAUTIFUL PIGMENTATION OF MY BALLS 9.5.17

 

9.5.17

Where have our

words disappeared?

Every thing

is quiet.

meals : silent

sex : silent

television : silent

We stare,

we have become creatures

who interpret the world

through eyes, which are small

and weak and beautifully

pigmented,

not unlike my balls,

not unlike this heart

that beats

for you.

 

when will we release ourselves

from this?

when can i reclaim the life

that i remember?


Written at 12:11 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA. 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s