WolfLarsen
01-05-2007, 04:13 AM
A Baby is an Old Man in a Second
I write my poems with your flesh oozing and dancing out of my pen, suddenly everybody's pregnant and there are thousands of buildings sprouting out of the walls in your living room and your girlfriend's tummy begins growing like a monologue, suddenly poems start shooting out of every floating molecule and poems are floating out of every animal and every plant and every person because everything on the earth is festering with poetry, you begin kissing all the lines of poetry until you are a circle, everyone is mailing you their own personal sky, so you're driving alongside the Mekong in Laos in a motorcycle and the people stare with thousands of eyes crawling all over your white skin forever, and if you think nuclear war can never happen sit at that gray pond in Treblinka – everything horrible can happen.
Copyright 2004 by Wolf Larsen
(First published in Kritya literary magazine, India)
I write my poems with your flesh oozing and dancing out of my pen, suddenly everybody's pregnant and there are thousands of buildings sprouting out of the walls in your living room and your girlfriend's tummy begins growing like a monologue, suddenly poems start shooting out of every floating molecule and poems are floating out of every animal and every plant and every person because everything on the earth is festering with poetry, you begin kissing all the lines of poetry until you are a circle, everyone is mailing you their own personal sky, so you're driving alongside the Mekong in Laos in a motorcycle and the people stare with thousands of eyes crawling all over your white skin forever, and if you think nuclear war can never happen sit at that gray pond in Treblinka – everything horrible can happen.
Copyright 2004 by Wolf Larsen
(First published in Kritya literary magazine, India)