Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Blog Eating Poem

Such a poor thing from me to tell
an unit of teeth more than I own
because anywhere my mouth become a hidious crab
the flesh of an animal with grief awaits
 
to be digested equally as slight
 
a thirty-pack of mechanical crashes
by a thirty-pack of blurry whiteness
and it drains, along through deeper organs
proper of delicate mankind

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