156

When facile similes relate the self

to larger but shallower tendencies,
it is an indication of the gulf
that rests between passions and memories: 
There are flames in my eyes for the cold truth,
the little flutters that pass over me
as I dream or think about the mask-tooth
that sustains my fears of the deep black sea:
There is fat on gums, gristle on the spoon
that I lift up to eat, like you all do
wherever that is that you come from; soon
I will be the same as you all, as you:
The only aim in life is to fit in;
thank God that sight is crooked like blind sin. 
Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s