02 September 2009

The Expression of Symptoms

has changed throughout our history

and we think now, when holding our heads,

of those who convulsed as lightening struck the ground

or who bled at unusual odors.

If we reconsider love to be disease

then, too, we may whisper ourselves toward a leech's philosophy,

a surgeon's bowl to be filled by our efforts, with our desires.

Resist these passions in the ways

this razor has been cutting my arm

here and here and here.

No comments:

Post a Comment