Friday, April 1, 2011

Day 1

"And I am Sick at Heart"


i hear her screams in the ripping of tape
off white painted cinder-blocked walls

stuffed into their ears
into ashen hands
dustless ashen hands staring
ever so sweetly

black knuckles bleed into concrete

(and that's a metaphor for you to just figure on) as i

stand before you
speaking to blanketed walls
informing roaches in corners

clutching my sides I Stand Before YOU

a tree branch
scratching at glass


i took this chance
in order to love us as us is loved by them
or is there something else to say about it

like bees digging hills in our front yard
like the polar drift paint still dried under my cuticles

like leaves dancing

or the noises you make when you sleep

i took this chance
and i am sick at heart

-A.P. Greco

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