Advice to Vivus



Die naught for the onlooker
under the umbrella haven when rains
the oceans over still feet;
The umbrella is a too-skinny halo
selfish in the gravewaters
of what feels pondscum and bum;
Love of other replete
to bloat in the waters obese
does die naught for the onlooker,
but the crayfish too salty for the fresh lake.

Thank hydrocodone for fooling my body into thinking someone’s massaging it. As if someone would stoop so low as to touch me.

Written for Vivian, ironically one of the few people I think I can count on.

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~ by Jeremy on July 27, 2008.

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