Good newsing

Unshowered and hot. June.
This smuggled equator brought north
points its gnarled limb,
like fish, at those fish heads
talking as though it’s warm,
not hot, not suited and dark
with a new book in hand, their hands
gnarled around uncooled pages
hot off the nuclear press.
Says vague medicine, mumbles,
on and on words from an aging book
losing slowly its legs as arthritis
will too grab them as it will
the dead flat jargon spoken alive,
longer-living than its mouth
but even old things turn back south.

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~ by Jeremy on October 9, 2010.

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