The Little Pond Poem by Mark R Slaughter

Brain bits
Upon the ground

SPIT

Contains an element
Testament
Pain
Irreverent
Irrelevant

Thrumming
In a drowned-out
Overtone

A soul floats
Survives
Just

…

In all I spat
A call

See it
Swimming
Frothing as it swears

Amylase dying
Denatured

Saliva speaks alone
Clears the ire

…

I feel as grey as lead
Dark death-grey
Accentuating weight
Cold weight
Cold-grey death-weight

My message
Frothing in the dirt
The little pond
Inside us

Outside
Fucks me up

We hide
Inside a mother

…

I turn to drink

I'll drink to that

Will SHE?
The quiet
Mirrored eyes of

Psychic
50: 50

Love
As 40: 60 -

I'll check for her disguise

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012