The relic blathers his voice it loiters

Tomorrow a gift? Never was young man let me
expound on my bildungsroman God he didn’t get
around to writing much sober I began or was begat

in a Nashville apartment the neighbors God knows
where they wound up likely peeling like gakusee in
the purview of an atom bomb thank his highness I left

for New Mexico high and maudlin my clothes long shabby
and I proud of it I regret a single thing simply one bogey
merely in all this shuffling from first mother to dementia

it being the photograph they were colored back then of
my house dank and dogged as it was the smell enough
to poison the dead yet young man I stowed my heart there


~ by Jeremy on April 30, 2012.

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