sábado, febrero 03, 2007

the just will live by fate

like some seething greasy voodoo pimp hiding in the shadows
like an unwashable stench

like a rabid beast with five hearts
each one
pounding at random
beating without rhythm
unable to sleep
unwilling to dream
suckling the barbed nipple of insight
drinking what we can
from that sagging breast of hope we call faith
looking for light
in dark places