Saturday, January 28, 2012

little chunks

I love being inside of a bull.
I date a train, like. He won't quit.

--

In a dream, my terror rips by. A breeze slits me.
Cold mammals handle me
and lose my almonds.

--
my apartment is bumbled up with boxes,
nearly packed.

Post-surgery, I crutched up twenty stairs
with Jon guiding my back.

He hurt me in bed in all ways,
like a sorrowful dog rollerskating over a frozen pond,

but time warmed us. The pond's melted up. Chunky.
And sweetheart's graceful on his wheels,

tongue out, a pro now, top dawg.






3 comments:

  1. Yeah, it's such a pain!

    On what?

    ReplyDelete
  2. My lung! It came apart from the chest wall and the doctor had to put a camera in there and then some glue! Ow!

    ReplyDelete