rigamortis delta

Posted by Erik Moshe on Sunday, August 21, 2011 Under: Poetry

I recognized your swollen encampment
as soon as I removed the cocoon’s blindfold
and recited the rites of the fibrous acorn
my, how your firth has grown
over these taxingly taxable
taxonomy related years

You spent your life hacking through wanderlust,
missed out on the gentle dispositions
- consensual trips for retribution to
various Venetian vineries, solitary strolls on Solaris
disguised as a shoreline vicar because you couldn’t
answer the coming tides of your self doubt;
seeds of doubt which doubled in size,
sprouted fur, and became gigantic

throughout the manic manifold
and you thought you could take administrative duty
on an island that regulates which tombs should be haunted?
these harsh Prussian winters are going to your head(cold)
Undulate in silence, fair Tartarus
Bide your time to awaken, bound
to a whalebone anchor set adrift
Drawing conclusions
while stenciling the circumference of the moon
it’s warmongering ridge keepers
shuffling along the telescopic watermarks
Tell me
If there’s any proof that I’m headless…
& why are you wearing a noose for a necklace?

In : Poetry 

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