Day: Apr 3, 2014
Ruddy Sticky Sanguine Mess [poem]
As I slithered through the wormhole
which, as things turned out, was just a womb
a canal and place of vulvic charm
a voice said in my head unsoftly:
“Now your life’s an open book
so write whatever thing you want
and it will be as you will soonly see”
though somewhere in the darkness
of my unformed mind
I heard a grim alarm.