An ulcer in the body

The adepts, morbid them, conceive
of demons lurking between limb
and forefinger, groin and brainstem:
the physicians, morbid them, reek
of spoiled senses and busted ulcers,
and paint up diagrams of disease:
the metaphysicians, morbid them,
invent with sophistry all manner
of creation and cosmic farce:
none of them say, “I see you!
You exist! You aren’t an atom
in the sum, but a prolificity!”


~ by Jeremy on June 12, 2013.

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