Puke Poetry

Heart like a hand grenade, fully-automatic weapon for a mind.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

clarification

i listen to their words go by
and for a long time it was all greek
but now i have it figured out:
you hope and hope that someday your prince will come
but when he does
you'll just
choke, or spit, or swallow
or wipe it from your belly or your back
or throw it rubber-wrapped to the trash
and still you won't be whole
or matter any more
and i just smile and lean back
and i keep listening because
i'm not waiting for any damn one
let alone some prince.

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