Tuesday, February 22, 2011

274. On the Gnawing Sea

freest cold

at first
freest cold
but dear

cold can’t come

cain’t

in a fraction, torrid
in moments, a fragment

thinking the raw tuna

thinking
& the raw
tuna thinking
& the
raw tuna

ground-up
tuna, warm
& raw,
swimming
in a honey
porter, &
a brisk walk,
to the train,
& I am made
into a vessel
of nausea

I am asea
& asway
in th’ocean
of myself

a train
in rumbling
sunlight &
the warmth
of surging
belly sea
in a train
stumbling
thru the
winter

a bit
of tea
& tannin
& a grown
nausea
given berth

outside
& cold &
I am
shivering

threw up
3X only 2
minutes
after entering
the house

shivering
pushes
me over
the ledge

chills &
shivering
& vomit
in three
bursts
water
ringing
my open
mouth
liquid
leaves
me as a
tube of
warm
water
wet tuna
liquid
chunks

fever &
convulsions
& empty
yet con-
vulsions
compul-
sions to
vomit what
no longer
exists

nausea
as pain
& reaching
toward
death for
release &
cramps &
shitting
& nausea
as a steep
dull pain

sleep
& sweating
shivering
& sleeping
sweating
& shivering

dreams
of not
having to
dream
anymore

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