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Nobody's Food
by Laura DoomYour heart beats
my head to a pulp.
Once processed, the characters
roll downhill in sequence,
silly hats and second-hand shoes:
Chase me, chase me...
The waters of morning
have broken, a gush
to publicise regret;
a shrug to excuse
my varicose vanity; a half-
digested pause that labours
the point of disunity.
There are no answers,
only the greeting
of birds and pigs
flying their conspiracy
of innocence.
Time is running out, and who
can blame it? I squeeze
your flesh until only pith
and seed remain. Tonight
we dine on detritus, with burned
hearts and headlines to go. 04/24/2010 Posted on 04/23/2010
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/24/10 at 10:26 PM ...laura, heavocity reigns. fifth read and i am just cracking the shell on this one. and that makes me devour it even more...it is pregnant with turns/meanings [love detritus-cool] an explosive undulation of soul-filling...a crazy-good feeling, certain words may hang out there to be scrutinized as dismal, etc., it is real, heavy, deep[in many ways...you have to hang on.] a lovely write, laura |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 04/27/10 at 03:01 AM Sometimes I fear your wordplay is far to clever for me... But I do love it and all its intricacies. Varicose vanity-- fantastic! |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 04/27/10 at 03:59 PM when i rady birds and pigs flying i laughed a little bit, but the second stanza is what really stands out to me. |
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