You pocket so many problems and then
you’re standing in the grocery store by the tea
and you feel the minerals start precipitating
out of your bones. Your body makes a little beach.
You’re speckled with dead jellyfish. Your brain,
your captain in his boat of bone is sinking
in water so salty his skin goes white.
That’s the new you for a while now. Don’t forget
to eat or the clothes won’t fit anymore.
A little fresh-water stream feeds this sea.
One day the whole thing will taste clean and sweet.
Listen to this poem
2 comments:
Hi. Thanks for leaving the comment. And yes the photos are mine. Just a little hobby. It's always nice to know when someone appreciates the work you do. Speaking of which, I am in love with this:
"Your body makes a little beach.
"
The fact that you're reading these things aloud is sick - good sick, very good sick. I love hearing you read your work.
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