Home   Home

rendered the poet useless i

by Brynn Dizack

clouds blockading the sun carrying white flags screaming sleepy surrenders i tumbled down out of where i should still be
still
stronger; and she laughs because what's that anyway, stronger... i feel like glass when i'm in front of you; a curious experiment in porcelain, upper lip as stiff as wet concrete my knees turned to down pillows & collapsed lightly down into the soft wall of the smell of ice cream comforted only by the change cup refilling after a night of work and dreaming of california

still alone making paper transfers transluscent chopping her sillhouette into walnut flavored questions [how could we not have seen] [where did it go] [where did it all stop] alergic wishes they were almonds like the slit shapes of annie's eyes & chocolate mahogany like her dresser at home, laced with the grain of woodworking intricate spiderwebs woven in corners in empty heads in beds with two

dents
and only one
body

& how easy it would be to hate you
& how easy it would be to forgive you
& how easy it would be to stop functioning completely & make home in the black, padding out walls to stop violent thrashings ink leaking down the walls in a stream like wine stains glasses fogging up windows with handprints this is the passion i miss & where are her hands & whose hands are these, now

could wear black all the time, could even
never leave the house without straight bangs & what would i give & how will the heat come and how will the heat go & what floor is she living on & what time zone pokes fun at her insomnia from the opposite side of gravity undermining nothing but copper pennies flicking their way[s] into her skull, ten, eleven, thirteen; is she skipping something does anyone care are there scissors are there erasers

erase
erase
erase

i can't breathe i am suffocating on white feather knees & the thick frozen liquid dairy against my throat stuffed full like a roasting chicken or a swollen breast i will expand and expand until i have covered. everything.

05/29/2003

Posted on 05/29/2003
Copyright © 2024 Brynn Dizack

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Max Bouillet on 07/24/03 at 10:45 PM

"curious experiment in porcelain" the whole poem is fantastic.... but the quoted line is exquisite. Great read.

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)