A companion of water

A great cry
from behind the corner store walks
stepping by stolid and fearless drunks
to under the gutter looking up.
A man gasps inside the city near a violin
playing its loud enough blues
to himself and the mice and the scattering of drunks.
Young ones scurry around his ankles
biting until rot his toes, and stepping
by stolid and fearless drunks he pries his jaw
and plays his violin through the flute of his throat.
Once he tore a boy’s head off,
and ate him, lovingly, and he loved him
until he couldn’t clean himself enough
to fend the mice and drunks away.
The hole in his stomach
shoots through its hole a muscle
tied to his loins and through it
chasing a fifth of happy and curdled
as an unborn moth he chokes and pulls
a boy through the sunlight.
Oh, he teaches the mice his language,
oh where hunger never boils its alcohol
and where thirst hangs by a thread of mange
stepping so quietly, so quietly and stolidly.
He takes his shirt off
and wrapt around the violin it plays
softer than huffing, softer than sound
a loud enough blues another boy
left too long in the sun is grabbed, and hung.
He hangs mice around the boy
how hung lambs to Abraham gently
combing his hair, and massaging every sore
lactic strain the boy got from summer,
and he embalms the boy
with his kisses
so quietly and stolidly the sunlight
stops beyond the gutter
hanging itself, and politely warming
the man and his meal and his companions.

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~ by Jeremy on June 24, 2009.

2 Responses to “A companion of water”

  1. Your work, it’s getting repetitive.

  2. From the mouth of an illiterate.

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