(train/desk jam) Day nine

Day nine

bloodshot wings spreading from the cage of bone

attempting the sundial – busy tone

salmon arabesquing into raven                  half-seen / half-known

beatings in the tympanum                            (administered by yours untruly)

after sufficient cooling of the hooves in the hypothalamus or beholding cell

to be followed swiftly by an electroshock session

in the substantia innominata

torn to the corners by a night full of mares

teeth bleached by endless individual drops of water

bled to the gills and gasping for air         guarded by

one highly-strung archer drawing light lines with crossed hairs

who curls his lip at the screamed confessions –

“Narcoanalysis? fucking amateurs…”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s