09 September 2010


Hunt 9/8

I’m tired of love

Of the game – the endless parade of candy

There is a loss here – my head is hurting

I’m tired of everything that is

There is no there there – no – there is
but it is a quietly roaring hated there

I’m tired of throwing arrows

Slinging the energy of myself into the world

There are fibrous strings leashing onto strangers

I’m tired of being drugged

Dragged around by my hopeless naïve sentimentality

It’s a field of clover bending under the sun’s hand

I’m tired of myself

Of being hopeless – of the taste of blood in my mouth

I’m very tired of not getting what I want

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