There is no worthier muscle

The seas stood up when I came.
Mercury does not turn the oceans gray,
nor the turtles homosexually hard.
A world war matches not this bombard
I threw like pale men throwing discus,
and the sky rains my muttering down
boulevards of merchants I made rich
for now the seas are nourished,
are pleased by this pollution
I enjoyed as well. In wells too
no thirst survives, no muscles ache
in the oven turned sun to bake
the poors’ hunger away—they eat fish
who swim up toilets and tissues
looking for their hooking bait,
and there are schools swimming for you.


~ by Jeremy on January 19, 2011.

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