Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Tumor

I’m standing on the tree branch
Of a cliff,
ready
to
tumble
Intoaswirlofmeltedcrayons
With SCREAMING banshees chewing
On
The kneecaps of my soul
And mad, mad hounds howling
For their supper,
So
Rip out my cancerous throat and feed
It
to the snarling
Dogs
at the mall,
waiting
To devour anything and
Anyone that
Might
bring them the empty
Joy of living
—Something they will never know
Until
they find themselves
dangling, dizzyingly
From the broken branches of the
Cliff.

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