S
somewhere
Guest
like gutting a flopping fish,
the poet takes a sharpened pen
to his flesh and from the
gaping gash pours out
his spirit, his voice, his
soul
hose the bloody basin down
with your piss or
save the entrails as
caviar
it matters not
for the words have
spilled and the poet
has found his
release
the poet takes a sharpened pen
to his flesh and from the
gaping gash pours out
his spirit, his voice, his
soul
hose the bloody basin down
with your piss or
save the entrails as
caviar
it matters not
for the words have
spilled and the poet
has found his
release