Tuesday, February 20, 2007

"rigor mortis."
//david mcnayr

tastes like chalk
dust under my tongue
fingerprints on my eyelids
dirt under my toenails

seeds of grass
in rows of sod
up and down
my cardiac muscles

little hungry worms
salivating in my marrow
gnashing eyeless needles
until all is hollow

and even as i crumble
there tread steps above
i can only guess
belong to you

my lungs gasp
for one last breath
with an elegiac rattle
i cannot cry out:

tell me tell me tell me
just try to tell me
what what what
you needed

i thought i thought i thought i
don't know what i thought i
could could could
do for you

soil fills my cavities as
i hum a short tune
i hum it again
i hum it one last time.


"gatten's intimacy."

not between
lovers or friends
but the warmblooded


Post a Comment

<< Home