Treasure Island

alexandre arnau

(9.26.72 -? / new york city)

retch


these vultures fill my mouth
the scabs lie to my skin
my blood boils over
in arsenic groves
and the devil's in the hole
the windows here
are broken eyes
and the walls
are moldy cold




my eyes bleed hate
for failed prayers
and the locusts fill the sky
my fingers cut
my words in blood
and show me where to go
my world has gone
in waves of no
these vultures fill my mouth

Submitted: Friday, July 01, 2005

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