untitled by Johnson Kinds
Occasionally, without warning,
people otherwise completely healthy
in a lurid, freakish manner;
They find themselves trapped
in deranged inner worlds
cramped with screaming phantasms
Unreal things leaking
like radioactive scum
from their heads
down into their guts.
Screw work. Screw religion. Screw you.
We share our worth like twins
sipping from the same cantaloupe-cup,
shaded by memories of Mother.
Snakes bathing in our laps,
licking sugars from our bellybuttons,
hissing blissful music.
You know, people rely on me
though daily my brain slides along
like a giant, fattened slug,
leaving my body scrambling behind it
in a blurred streak of constant,
One day I will go to pieces.
My body will become a hospital for a soul
shedding its clothes,
shaking claws at a hostile storm,
sprouting leathery wings,
seeing fabulous things,
Seeing fabulous things.
Swagazine | 3 | 2 | 1
© Copyright 1997 by Swagazine, All rights reserved.