February 22, 2012


          a point
coded, dark purpose
the very air is dark purpose
          it’s death
we breathe our own demise
it’s the food we eat
it’s the liquid we drink
it’s the fucking air
the soup we swim through
          is coded
“a” for anything you care to enumerate
“b” for the bullshit
      that clogs our nostrils like wet sand
“c” for dark purpose hidden
      in plain sight
like the cop at the funeral
he’s always got the bosses in mind
birthed in thin air, now studded
with barnacles, ghost ship
  slips, fading ever toward transparency
into another form, can we ever
scrape it clean
and wash it away

No comments: