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Glut

November 28, 2015

 

onehundredandthirtynine

You asked me what I saw.
And I saw.
A strip torn from me.
You were.
Lying there.
Gassed.
And laughing their laugh.
Labour sets you free.
So they say.
Lying there.
Crying tears.
Of joy.
Little boy?
Little girl?
Little room for either.
In this little world.
Lying there.
Bleeding.
Fucked by the wind.
And giving birth to nothing.
Knowing.
How little you need to know.
To succeed.
Not caring.
How little you need to care.
To breed.
One more mind for the dumb to lead.
One more mouth the soil can’t feed.
One more insect.
One more seed.
In musk and lust.
How little we understand.
The unborn are the blessed.
And the living the damned.

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From → Poetry

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