INSIDIOUS



What follows here is a joke

a booze

and come stained elegy

wrapped in ocean of

green smoke,



a bright corpse



cooling on an autumn beach,

a mutant benediction,

a bastard hand,

a stump



All openly confessed feelings

are the same feeling

one way or another



I have my priorities.



I am the rude author

I knew I would be.



I thought myself shadow born

to an unknown mother,

then left in a tree stand to die.



Found by a half-wit, raised by his sister.



A taste of copper in my mouth for years;

how could I have known

what it was I had tasted?



I told all I could

and heard it said later

that others had said it earlier,

better, more precisely.



With more seeming truth.



I said I know my own use,

and repaired to a bar.



Then another.

Another.

Another.