Monday, July 27, 2009


The mouth, blackens itself to street meat
The flesh, lying, is thick with regret
The mind, denying, mimes defeat
And the heart beats itself apart.

The bones, cave with a sorrow that lets
The flesh grieve as it needs
and feed, this human debt.

The hands, bend back and yet
Undo nothing, the past indeed
Will not take breath, nor ressurect
It's heart that beat itself apart.


  1. the poet is reborn from the crank and pedals of a pedicab....