the pit

Sorrow drips like molasses

Between the cracks

Of rotted, knotted

Plank like dreams

Boredom leads me over the edge

To the vipers, the pit

A sea of sharks squirming

And oozing over each other

In a spastic orgy

Numbly, I fall into the foul stench of

Vomit, septic tank, and fly media

Only slightly stimulated

By the thought of being

Torn to bits

I fall and am ignored


BD 1993

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