Stinch Binge Poem by Joe Elmenhorst

Stinch Binge



Flesh to press I'm here not walls like I am naming-solitaire down a dark hallway-into a musky room sex on plates-the buildup of the day unravel gives flesh you're smiling-with the fields with arms swinging hearts over and over again and again bedsores delivery of us rolling insect liquid subject to inject over and over running through the of comfort love grows like tumors-salt rumors sharp pain in one's head trauma-brain swells-give-way to collapse of a collage-forget you begged me to do this act in pictures-cut up time in a travel make me loose stool-as air fills of rust and naked rectums has the words slurred white teeth red gums me and all-laying beating skin hungry sex abrasion- bleeding from the end-was it safe as patients never know-how this overdrive ectoplasm slideshow combination of intoxication be an end-would love the long-awaited along you-in water and oil mix just like scratching-calling your name down six flights-long water repels life that the virus makes-circles from my mouth-the blood imaginary.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: existence
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