Fear’s grammar

What is this, what is this?
The opiate swamp between bullied
left ear and limping right.
What is this I see? What the babies
write when they mature eating LSD.
What a filthy laboratory, planet Earth,
your old hips have turned vulgar
where too many mouths are eighty at twenty.
What a confusion of syllables. How extraordinary.
No such thing as looking up, or feeling.
Only the single math that hollars silly
-what foul abstraction invented I?-
One may reduce it parietally or parentally.
One may regard the waterfall of bodies
or consider better-than-me the domain
of hobbling animals incapable of sneering.
What is this hunchbacked golly-gee about
you sagging adolescents come unyoung?

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~ by Jeremy on March 19, 2012.

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