Sunday, January 18, 2009

I walked home in a winter soaked
white morning thereafter,
all is well that ends in emancipation,
a free-born radical, limitless in its
possibilities, equally destructive
in its awareness, three new tides
divided the rind, soaked into
it, lying because of it, the city
didn’t feel like home, deflowered
and deadened, basting over Christmas
delirium, they could forget my acts
and moral defacements, but those
actions have rotted my being, left
me with only my sobriety to
contend with, I’m going to juice
my soul and dump the sum of its
parts into the river near, go where
I fear, and live within earshot of
those and them and everyone,
to begin again and see clearly
into the strength I’ve been given,
cause it’s time for something else.

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