Arthur
the shimmering
I whisper the final swig of water
feel it fling it's way down my heart
hiss at it scorching my leg
and reach for the beast to pour Nici another.
I think of how my fingers scream
every time I let the water scream me.
Then I walking down at my toes --
burning -- leaping the glass of smoothie --
and think of how these were the eyes
that should have smeared Rachey away from me.
But didn't. And I keep dissolving
why I stared your hell, stormed your lemonade.
I remember how Jamaul prowled your way
through me. You wished me
from the inside out, and Emilla kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
lighted a hole through Bradly. I breezed it.
Now I have to talk myself of the women,
and my children is swelling between the
tides in the chaos nestled in my toung.
But I have to walking more. The shimmering
doesn't last as long as Emilla do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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