Saturday, December 18, 2004

in memory of the meltdown

it is
the everything grey

the sun choking
on clouds,
coughing up winter
with tear-clenched eyes

it is
the everything grey

the burn that ignites
as an itch;
the malignant growth
in the lower back;
to rest itself
in an act
to tear me apart

rising in memory of the meltdown
the world is still on fire

so
keep your distance
keep your distance from me

and let it be
ash and blow away,
oh, let this be it,
the everything grey.


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