I get back from the supermarket at four in pain throwing into my mouth
two tablets of codeine and from a box of wine from the liquor store four
glasses of sweet red wine urgent in asking for free indirect discourse
in a lyric poem pulling a selected Allen Ginsberg from the tightness of
a bookshelf from youth to old age where hep c got him in the end sharing
dirty needles and were you in bed with a man and eating your
girlfriend's cherry and do commodities really care a fetish eating into
you he eating you america you united states what have you done and when
can i ask if the scars in the crook of my right elbow will clear like
the ones in his legs varicose veins have already covered those below the
knees and holding a penis in a bathroom like I was masturbating until a
vein shows itself and the ones in my left arm are gone being left handed
the right elbow is easier to find what is hidden with blunt points
injecting capital stores of value to keep the value up the new secret
money exchange exchanging for a store of gold after the imperialists
agree after the last war and the war today and he said it was bad it
being good that capital circulates antithesis is a story we are told he
said to me on my knees scared from kneeling too long on hot concrete in
the wild city neighbourhood strangers is how she got those scars and she
did it too it being his cherry exchanged for friendships not learnt in
classic schools and it is eight pm and where have you been these last
four hour half morphine lives and where is the glass of wine not by an
unused desktop computer tower keyboard dementia takes it away like this
and opening a fridge door finding glasses still full of red to drink and
throwing two more tablets of narcotic opiates into his mouth and
drinking the full wine glasses cold in a refrigerator so they said and
can you remember what he does remember so she says sucking my brains
like a straw syringe into his circulating capital dream dementia where
an exhausting illness accelerates old age tropes like metaphors not
being what there are being metaphysical as I am a woman holding the
testicles of uniform warriors while they scream men feel pain squeezing
harder still a firm grip on reality here
[and it is here I run out of energy... stream of consciousness style fid
wears you out flat]
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