A gastric swallow

Said the tongue to his undressed banksman
to whom will you speak when I thicken up?
Nuded of your rhetoric, your phonic muscle,
then there, in the sun, who’s always hated you?
Where will you drag yourself now
when no one will suffer the gab of my fool?
I’ll let you eat, so I may eat,
but yours is a domain of silence unworded.
When you do eat, think of me
& what I took from this world
into my own long breast to bear you alone.
But the mess of your coins & nothing else
but your flat steel drums and my musing noise.
You swallowed my pride & I swallowed your voice.

_ _ _ _ _ _


A bittering talc
& something of you’s
on my throat’s pulse down it.
Which is that gag I’m gagging?
A two-dollar bill is your new orphan
rolled around your little finger
looking at you, so look at it
under a blacklight
until the royal green is human white.
Until you notice this tongue
& all things from me to you
are bound in white jungles
through the yeast of my night
asleep or close to it
near your dull light female
gasp I ignore as you gawk
somehow dead as I snort you
all up until not the least
of your remains remain unimbibed
as your dollar eats my ten dimes.

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~ by Jeremy on July 9, 2010.

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