Friday, April 07, 2006

SCOLOPEDRA: Womb dependant since the day it lost me. the mold adopts leech habits. Harlots form from the cracked rib, giving birth in mineral baths so they won't know sand from mud. The pestilence has been missing from these weekend armageddons. there has only been famine without starvation. I closed my eyes and saw red centipedes orally dissecting white rats. i told myself it was an appropriate alternative, maybe even an apt reflection. this is where the sky opens up and i forget all my obsessions, namely every ugly bone we posses. Now my teeth are prepared for the crows. Voice is pain, concealed in apathy like slop hardening on pork tongues. Light used to exit through holes in my skin, now there is just smog. Though it sometimes exhausts, it's still empty calories not worth burning off.

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