-or not!
the style of king, now thinking
but man shaped, full well
fatling
now prattling. erstwhile tense, over;
i will use a semi-colon in the poem;
you couldn't see me yesterday and now you
exist, as if i exit
the shop, the windows with their baneful glare,
the shrewd of me knows to slink out, to bow,
to somewhat only love you through haunting.
as though the choice was mine, and i am handheld
to my suffering, its three fingers and gawping mouth,
and the sound of that beating wild inside me
as if i once heard lake and swan dance and that
was the new shadow of us. something trudged up-
a chorus of water, and the crisp repeat,
the 5 second beat.
"as though the choice was mine". as if i wrote that honest.
i am the king! the king damn it!
my chains clack, melee
with the grass
what is known is heart, far gone,
drip-dried
it is dew on chains, rust then, or grass led
to the dirt where her hands dig, (dug)
where i see her bones and mine.
for the king who loves
he cradled me in his mouth and was silent for most of it.
her ground is somewhere north of mine
in fields of grass with the tallest tree i climb and see
little images of her sprawled in text and something phoneme
exists there, sure. like i would trap her in language,
in me, in me!
as if sex were important
or romantic,
or like christmas comes and goes and all the stale cookies in the world
couldn't fill me up.
but i am the king!
and my tears are strange, and longing.
chicken is a bird,
i guess my clucking
...
well held back
i crown
and she is the lost head.
see the glint
smash to the floor!
its price of plastic
i pay for
word by
worm.
and where is the apple again?
where is the gold of her hair?
*
i have ribs today, toying with
my heart. ha
i am the king!
the foppish fool.
my heart is the crown that knows it.
*
lol. :p
*
one year ago:
you walked into a song and became it.
and i sing it under my breath,
just because i love you
which would be enough.
but i am the king!
see:
it isn't.
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