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Pub Poem #1I in this god forsaken land forespokeA dredged shore of sorrows drownedAnd me grounded with wire and earthand all that I'm worthHere on this marble, oh so smallOh so pathetic.The great distaste, an emetic that churns and burns my wirey plaque,a precedent to your white attack.Teeth grizzly like the water stamp you are.Coined, wired, minced meat and dined. There is no opportunity for you to shine.Necrotic, besiegedNo one you know will see,Now breathe.
June BugBurning bridges, the crackleand the sparkle of combustion,the ignition of the plight,the no-going-back. Stuck out hereon a washed-down cliff edge-a hanger while the rest of us just hangand toss the memories with a splatterbelow, on the rocks of red peoplethat faded long ago.And I'm fading too. A month maybe,something like that-the search for a lighthouse is vacuous and empty,an exhaustion pools the waves, spraysvoid over and over again into my eyes,a void so sure, certainit will never disappoint with its terrifying eyes.But I'm tired, and things aren't as scary as they sound.The abandonment I'm used to. The June bugis nocturnal, shuddering in its ownshadow and hastened to the ground.It surrounds on all sides and makes a bite that dividesone side and the other,the imperceptible, the meek,the carnivore and his meat.They will both surely drown,spend time in the ground.