scruta

Either you are sorting it out, or you are full of it.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Written on the Back of A Coaster

This is the poem that filled a

coaster, but filled the world as

well. You know, the world –

that steaming, heaving mass of

shit and piss and blood and boiling

tempers and great unparalleled insights,

whispered on the lips of daydreamers

and bridge jumpers, pimps and

plagiarizing banshees, howling at

the moons of tragedy and unspoken

ecstasies, that sung from the

bowels of the universe, and imprinted

themselves upon this coaster, scrawled

in a backsliding hand, pleading forgiveness.

posted by ferret at 4:16 pm  

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