An Old Flame
Between bad taste
bad haircuts
burning flesh
bonafide anglicized institutionalized
surreal
reality
under seas of burrowed dirt
white worms wringing washed hands
suckling apple roots
meaty mashed marrow
I know that something simple
floats in a vat
fires electrons
deconstructs time
an absolute interpretation
pulls punches and lays traps
counts hours and cuts veinly
you simple goddamned boy
acting without the dignity of a stage
lying without the dignity of a truth
sloshing past under inside
nothing’s there
not the water seeped into your prepubescent white dress
the tears of your parents
empty words
naive nativity
it’s a chemical burn
but it won’t scar
me.
