Napkins: Rare Poetry and Prose Archives, 1995-2004 by Steve Dustcircle - HTML preview

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Finally Has Come (via 2002)

Upon my face the sun scalds against my will
I lay there with not the strength to roll to the side
To hide the blisters
It seems like years since i had begun this journey
And it will be years if i choose to finish
If I'm not there now

 

I lay eternally, waiting for them to come
devour

 

I seek moisture through the sweat and maroon
I taste the salt, the dirt, the maroon
Every sound isn't present
Except the whisper of arising nonexistence
I am immortal no longer

 

Alone am I

 

Yet I sense one's presence
So I look to my enemy of yellow which hides my owner
It has arrived to join my feast
How I love the company
But it's not for forever for I'm being poked
My dried scabs and mucous are revealing marrow
Tissue
More maroon

 

Finally, the vulture has come

 

 

Grief (undated)

 

Oh the grief

The guilt

I can't help but recollect

Memories of the past I built

Wish I could reform

Re-select

It was unchosen

My destiny

I ended up at the end

Bent

It was supposed to be a movie

Not a free ride

Pay the rent