A failed hanging

Mother there, all fried blonde,
all screams now like atoms doing
the dance in my head and out.
Just hanged this head for seven seconds,
woke up startled at the deliriant
broadcast of hers through my radio
locked up in these stubborn ears.
The cord snapped as her voice snapped
syllables unrecallable but potent,
like waking in water, like tyrants
winking cattle once then people next,
was a person here who traveled
three hours in one instant as if thoughts
were lightwaves too, born by the fast
of better thoughts than what I had
as though she saw my bleeding mouth
and wrapped hands around my neck herself
waking up the neighborhood not hers,
as though she carried my mood in her purse.

True story.


~ by Jeremy on January 17, 2011.

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