A sitting flock of voyeurs

I watched in the cold someone
do murder and joy how I
bend knee and joint, you know,
hand in hand and joining them
I laughed how we all laughed.
Strangers all, stranger myself in
the beating organ turned beaded
with the stubble of our bobbing heads.
Something came out of our mouths
and whatever it was it was bubbles
burned open some same as our throats
we refunded for their purchase,
the purchase we choked about
as the lady pinned to the wall bedded down
in her blood and our dimes of popcorn.
If she had married, died a grandmother
the city next would hear our screams.


~ by Jeremy on January 18, 2011.

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