Posted: Monday, February 23, 2009 | |

I like peculiarity, the not-quite, and frankly
I've been selfish, saving all the words for myself
just think!
a world of you's

(this is a sort of story about a sort of boy I sort of never knew)

just now is this boy assembling;
north of being a child,
south of man
east of stable
and west now, into
a discourse on the empathy inherent to human beings
and they put him on a shelf, metal, medical
one leg, two leg, three?
femur, femur
from the top shelf, where his jawbone rests on the fibula,
comes a laugh and a voice somewhere in between puberty and death
'the state of geometry is overrated'
and his teeth answer with the movement that calcium would make
if it had a sense of humor
bone on metal
this is the poet's lament,
words; who uses whom?
and though the boy rests ice cold ivory
in being disassembled,
he won
just now is this boy relevant,
is a poem-boy ever?
but we believe in your ability to get past
occlusions, disillusions,
the state of reality is overrated


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