Not to breathe...
Not to breathe but to
gulp down rain
lochs rivers
further: messy seas
Filled to the brim I drip
tingle cough
say cunt as though I've caught
a Tourette's cold
Wet feet sweaty
palms
Eyes too
watery
as wells
My texts dissolve trailing
phonemes
(they are)
washed-out ghosts
of thought [...]
EGJ © 2008
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