Transplants they migrate wildly

The sea in its jealousy aches to swallow me.
I am hanging let me rephrase that is I hang
over a bluff by my right foot the one I amputated
nearly that night I went spastic reading the good
book it having told me in whispers real short real
sweet I’m better off without my limbs offending me
than entering well-fed and stout into a kingdom richly
bedecked with banners that read “Welcome no anomalies.”
Mark that diehard he was deranged and thoroughly malign.

Incorrigibly I am a proselyte of pranks their manifold signs
like gospels for the common man each man more common
than the last is my view on things limping or lying down.
I am hanging that is I hang I see the hungry water more than
water it is the homeland in which our forebears all predatory
bestowed each other death out of terrific abiding boredom.
I hang by a seascape with mere deluded me for company:
no kingdom in sight nor miser to admire and nary theodicy
no pederast holies nor goons beatific nor baldfaced absurdity.

– – – – – – – – –

Mark 9:45:

“And if thy foot cause thee to stumble, cut it off:
it is good for thee to enter into life halt,
rather than having thy two feet to be cast into hell.”

~ by Jeremy on April 26, 2012.

2 Responses to “Transplants they migrate wildly”

  1. ‘Mark that diehard he was deranged and thoroughly malign.’ Not as deranged as John, but still.

    I don’t know if you remember me, probably do, only two years’ passing – gakbu from Mary. You & your poetry came to mind at some point or other; luckily I remembered voodoo. Glad to read about the being published; gladder still to see that you post, and presumably write, a poem here every other day. I wish was doing that, haven’t done so for a long time; couple of poems every other couple of months, and they’re mostly small refuse. Not dead, merely inert, the writing–too much time and mental patience required, as old Stalin said. Anyway, just thought I’d see if much of you is still here.

  2. I remember you, the Maltese.

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