What else influences

Makes it unconscious
like the street underneath
our family made one man,
your sisters your teeth,
thirty of them behind us
holding the cross markers
and I smothered through
the wood with lavender,
the piss of my mouth
laundered there clean once
more from their smiling mouths,
in dirt, like the backdrop
of an eye rubbed down
with the bricks we’ll build
surely while skies boiled
light themselves on fire
and we lie down high
like things half-born
but breeding in the sty.


Addendum: morning after, huh, I really wrote “the piss of my mouth?”


~ by Jeremy on September 10, 2010.

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