Jul
22
Geek Amour
Filed Under poetry | Leave a Comment
What to say if you see me
thinking these things.
Are you peering between the bars
pulling up the scab with a stick
to see my pink
flesh, suddenly cool and rising
to defend itself against your eyes
the tongue of you worrying the
lost tooth hole of me
or did you wander in
to find me at the piano, still
wishing I could play
and stirring a sweaty glass;
bruised gin duking it out with the
index finger gestapo
attempting tragic
Maybe you googled me
after long not
did you hear me mention you in
that way we do
of something so important but
long not
in that way we do
of something so core to who we are
after long not
and so far from where we are
but maybe you didn’t stop.
Maybe I struck no chord at all, sour
or otherwise, as I indulged the
recall. As I honored the desperate twinge
of a gone limb, still so sure of
its own existence; made welcome
the insatiable tickle that leads to madness.
Maybe it’s still winter with you, and
you don’t expect to see the sideshow of me
for some time to come, if ever.
The barker lets you leave in favor of the
easier mark, sniffing for blood on the wind.