Thursday, July 17, 2008

in a distant memory of recent origins,
sheltered in satiated ambivalence,
shadowed by three, entered through
the back door and down to steal
what was wanted, it is a wonder,
who to care for in circumstance,
the asshole who steals it versus the
asshole who didn’t need it, but
still hardly few get it, they’re few
in this fascination, and few to find
for friendship as I begin to question
its authority, pausing, there’s a want
to crush his very skull, ending whatever
it is that he thought he was, leaving him
past his circulation, all of these allegiances,
them against them, us and us, dualisms
and the like of binary codes, columned
into stasis and forewarned to the next we’ll
meet, it just may distinct in our apparel,
and then the many may move in notice,
in death we reap our own, sowing
the seeds of need, in shared passive,
it was never what I expected, but I’ll
take what I can get.

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