By gnomey dragonfleyes@msn.com
Date: 30 August 1999

RAW

i sit in turn on a counterclockwise house
i lift the glass to salut' the lamps on the wall
here here to the little fella who looks at me from
the screen
i am sober in my drink
and drinking in my sober
the jello is not green or orange but pink
pink as in the raw shed blood of my 
agonizing heart
raw as in the wound ripped open in my chest
and raw in the quick senses that
let me feel the pain that refreshes itself
each hour each hour each hour 
tick tock tick tock......
the minutes foretelling that
the next rush of pain will come in a nother
59........58.........57..........56..........
the wind stands hushed
and the sun doesn't shine as brightly
as it did years ago, years only symbolizing the time
in photographs, of past cat scratches, and minor
abrasions......
nothing raw..........
my legs unshaved my hair all mussed
my scars a little more livid little flourescent in
their whitening glow........
is that whiteout you say??? no its acutally me.....
me and my pale pigmentation, a pale imitation
i'd rather say, hi, i am a pale imitation.
"hi pale imitation"
is this day waiting for me????
guess i should go pump up my bike tires
and let something else give me a ride........