Tuesday, March 10, 2009


Camera: angle one: the pupil retracts causing a flame
Drunk in isolation off a gender-neutral friend of mine
They clapped in response, walked in silent rows
The two of them captured their scattered immature lusts
On a bus of lonely rowdy passengers who knew fame

Blood pouring from an inner pore, you were well tame
As he reached his hand towards your hesitant pant line
You told them to behave, never disobey directed flow
Public drinking until blood blushed their exposed busts
It was his last chance at redemption: a missed train

Until you fell in the cellar a moment before she came
But you were no longer drunk on University time
Your love for them kept discipline a continual low
And they still couldn’t handle this blooming age of trust
So he sank down, a confession of his ego and pain

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