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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The shell of a man

Disasters of my youth in decline,
the follies of the "father of the man" retreat.
I look back to this boy clawing at earth, having stepped on one too many mines,
torn in half,
reasoning with me on the ground,
telling me all I can be,
telling me to leave him behind.

Now cleaving the -individual- I am from who I was,
leaving me the utleast I can be. Another sort of shell.
I would ask you to fill it.
I would ask you to arm me.
And one day soon I will ask you to bury me,
hiding to surprise
and rend that andropause hagspawn from the man.

Thereon all that is left for me, is to walk with a stick
to smell the breath of the Sphinx,
grasp with both hands to prize open that maw
and put my head inside.

1 comment:

laamie said...

amazing. as always. and thought provoking. and painful...just a bit.

this is a very good one.