I'm thinking about how being left
is marginal. How, parsing sour
ornaments, you think eventually
in Captain Crunch, and knees blanch.
"I tried to love you the best
I could" murmurs her lips, someone
else. Meanwhile dripping a hold
on your severed leg.

"I'm sorry I'm not who you want."
I'm beating this into the pillow right
now, teeth chalked-out with passerby's
blood. Passerby appears startled
to be in this picture. "I thought

this was a family shw." She's wearing
my balls around her neck, catsup
gently like in accordance with
heartfailure arrives enigmatically.


=====


***************************************************************************

Lewis LaCook

net artist, poet, freelance web developer/programmer

http://www.lewislacook.com/

Stamen Pistol: http://stamenpistol.blogspot.com/

Database_shortPoems:: http://www.lewislacook.com/poems/shortpoems.php

Sidereality: http://www.sidereality.com/



tubulence artist studio: http://turbulence.org/studios/lacook/index.html




















__________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Mail - 50x more storage than other providers!
http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail