Sunday, November 2, 2008

Underwater (poem)


I leave clues scattered
but you fashion your own clues to dress
the conclusions you have made.

I am squeezing shut my eyes
like blisters. but you
are not
looking at my face--

you are rather apathetic to the fact that
I cannot look at you-- you
just want what you want and

as long as you get what you want
you are not a monster.

I am the monster--

medusa and her head of snakes
the evil, twisted female must die. or
she will black-widow the world, who hate
her but love her
for the sick tragedy she provides-- that

the world may stare. and
thank themselves
that they live better lives.

I will eat my clues until I can eat
no more and my appetite for

understanding becomes a hard, black stone.
that I may throw myself to
the bottom of the ocean--

where my snakes and
green skin
will give the underwater life

something novel and horrific
to feast and

gaze upon.

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