Monday, March 31, 2008

this is what i want


REJECTION LETTERS
burn holes through
galvanized paper-skin
rush quickly for the gut,
push forward to the phantom
limb with feather-quill in
hand and say,
tickle-tickle.

tickle-tickle-tickle.

unscratchable itch painfully
forgotten only to be
reawoken by bloodless
sorries.

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