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Thursday, September 16, 2004
The endless antiquity. . .
The endless antiquity
of human weakness
of human desire
of human nature
is everlasting
it shall never
be satiated
until the
last corpse
is bones
and gone
without flesh
The thought plagues
my head
The entire meaning
of our lives
Keep it full of things
Until full, over it springs
Expelling its inner turbulence
Making known its true diffidence
Minds are full of things quite fair
go deeper in the ruining lair
to catch eyes with naked thoughts, bare
beside our outward ploy
the inner sanctum is dirtied
a corrupted housing, wallowing
in the secrets of ornate human desire
building a bulk which shall soon outweigh
its carrier and force to give in
for to resist, what is within
that is to be not human
but an empty hollow
the going-ons
of the world
flash across
my face
but i do not
care
i stare
but these eyes
see something else
Slanting hips
crying lips
eyeing hints
legging it
seeing this torture
being eaten whole
by this vulture
i'm in a fit of lust
feeling that i must
have
must own this
working
is doing your time
for the crime
of being alive
even if
i didn't ask to be
born,
it's so
so further on, i go
let me go wherever i am taken
of the unquenchables
the intentionals
the sensuals
these are
our credentials
it is that we drown
in
that we're
found in
gasping to find
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