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Friday, February 08, 2008

Bullet Proof

I woke up in the marsh today
amidst the mist and fists
I pissed myself thinking
that I didn't know my right from wrong.

Inside outside mellow blue.
I think of you.
I miss my shoes.

Bare feet on bear rug and barely knowing
yet completely showing.
There's that growling noise again and...
I run through this marshland space.
No face.

Mist upon mist and list in my brain.
Where am I? Why am I? Who am I?
No race or races just spaces and faces.
I feel full of nothing and nowhere
and this blue becomes gray.
The marsh becomes harsher
and the blades of grass feel like ginsu on my heels.
Wheels spinning while the face is grinning
and I'm still running but my legs don't move.

The blades find the groove
and the green becomes red.
Spilling from me into the ocean's bed.
The mist becomes thought
and my brain feels wrought.
Iron clad and nude irony.
Spiraling spirals.

Viral, my thoughts
Killer shots to the arteries.
I'm in the forest being chased by trees.
The leaves cleave and the green becomes red.
The blue in my head.
The mist amidst the fists to the chest.
I tried my best.
I shed the vest.

Bullet proof, my ass.

-AP 2/8/08

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