by R.G. Johnson
tremendous piston mouth pumps dry and raw;
firework sparks light the heat-softened gape.
on a stormy sea of indefinite blue-green sentiment
childhood memories bob and gasp; bob and gasp.
stolen life-breath from windy dreams blows
wire-shorted brains from the sleepy wagging head
of the locomotive corpse that I have become;
carrion for scraping steam-birds and social crustaceans.
the spring torn from the sex handle dangles shamelessly,
but the wanton coals still glow in the darkness playfully.
there is a metal-on-metal giggle that echoes sadistically,
and this gut-spasm awkward moment feels like home.
ghostly machinery roars again,
the child-me stops trying and drowns,
and my frame longs to be picked clean.
and since nothing has been solved let’s fuck.
January 5, 2010
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