Poetry

Anthony DiMichele


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12 july 2012

paranoid

I know I am paranoid
it took the first ten years
of safety education
to open my eyes
a frog's mouth unexpectedly magnified
how life forms are transformed
into celestial garbage bags
my mother's command repeatedly
was to push harder!
it taught me repetition
a contortion of origins hard to control
finally I see my zombie at high noon
eat its own hands in prayer
but something is always missing
in that appetite
I am suspicious of its nexus
a gordian knot I tied with my toes
I sheath my tongue in a hunting knife
and I can't wake up after I awoke
there are ideas that bleed confections
carpenters who never touched a toucan
the flow is moving from mind to mind
mindlessly most of the time
I was so wise once
every game was life or death
with my dice cup full of hot air
in arcades hypnotised by surrealism
advertising its lips
finely stitched with care






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