Apr 27, 2008
I am reckless with want:
I am christened with the blood of wineskins.
I am created from molds.
I am weighed down with alacrity and machines.
I am paralyzed by bread.
I am impartial though haughtily stacked in belief.
I am locked like valuables.
I am collapsing upon the ocean's salted beds.
I am the definition of relief.
I am belied the idea of falsely engraved idols.
I am endangered like owls.
I am following the masochism of my father.
I am not doing well, people.
I am the depiction of lifetimes of pictures; alive.
I am not that photogenic.
I am the effort of reality, the realization of want.
I am made of the tree bark.
I am a man of suits and ties with no employment.
I am the rising exhaust.
I am an endowment of fur warming the indigent.
I am corn-stalks grown.
I am worn about like a loose, carrot-colored dress.
I am scared of all of you.
I am reinventing the created subtext of my footfalls.
I am unsure; melancholy.
I am the ending before it happens; a tenement ragged.