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Spaghetti knots

oop

another lung lonely

with those birds on the line squawking and shitting

blabbing about how to hide the sun

destroy the trees eat more than their bodies

have shit in them to shit more than their bodies can shit

 

there is no breath untouched no love in the day

their wild wings are the old fold of a dress

showing that there are nights that never end

and can crush the windpipe of a great singer’s voice

who used to be the husband of you

cooing mornings losing evenings

telling telling telling you

the beautiful spoiled vegetable

the tendered thinker

that a pineapple is a luxurious ball gown

a peach is an entire human

a cherry is whatever you need it to be

as you are tied now

inhaling a whole universe in your mouth

 

the birds do not quiet as you exhale

hovering over the shit with your power

just enough to go on

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)

Discussion

2 thoughts on “oop

  1. Once I ate five times my own weight to store up enough energy for a flight. And yet I still could not fly like a bird. I sang to a bird trapped in an old smoke house with a fly dead in a spider’s web and somebody lost a lung and a salmon that could not spawn up a river without a paddle, or without a cherry or a lunch, and her life folded like an undressed day with birds of paradise on a line never crossed to play the bagpipes that drone in battles lost.

    Posted by Doug | August 30, 2018, 10:37 am

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