This Is Not Art

Poetry to Split the Social Order

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Dark Space

His Body is a Bone yard
Fragments wrapping around fragments
All sharp nooks and dark elbows
Today I saw a Dead Man walk from his grave to his bed
His thoughts painting the wall
His eyes are always carrying such dark places
I do not understand how he walks around completely silent when there is a war going on inside of him and it is bleeding noise



There is a ghost in your mouth
its all death your spitting out

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