Hundred-Handed Hundred-Minded

Couldn’t see the man or mirror
well with child; too much a drunk
winding down muscular slunk
through highness and highness but well methunk.

Couldn’t see myself for dinner
well with child; yolks in yeast
if inebriated into a beast
would turn a violent tongue abreast.

Couldn’t see the organ’s pulse
well with child; milking sweet
a husband’s mouse speared for meat
in cross with another spearing heat.

Couldn’t see beyond a shoulder
well with child; birthing still
a quarter drowned in public veil
too much like his mother to squeal.

Couldn’t see what I was doing
well with child; then without,
an idiot whose uterus invented clouds
who poured into Earth the first shod house.

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~ by Jeremy on November 6, 2009.

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