stonedsour's Diaryland Diary

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hiss

Hiss
My barrel is scraped
your hissing, choked-up scream
dissonates as sharp fork
tines on spent china
all my ventricles are speared
left dangling
from a metal tree
for cruel breezes
to examine clinically
whispering to the world
their expertise
wheezing sound judgements
which drop like jailers’ keys
on clanging ground.

4:36 p.m. - 2006-01-22

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