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Tuesday, January 26, 2010

questions haunt the waking man





questions haunt the waking man
in the blazing air of morning,
his breath the needle piercing blood;
red rhythms of the glass-bored voice of night.

change has devoured yesterday's laughter,
drunk slowly the ghostly desires broken free
as the killing universe listens, each wild-born day
and beats naked life, with a lingering kiss of decay.

2 comments:

  1. Wow! Such stunning potency in these words - they have grabbed me by the throat and won't let go.

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  2. I liked the entire thing, but if you were to have just made a poem of the last two lines I would have liked it just as much. :)

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