Current State
i.m. D.P.
Metonymy has dropped its
plumes
in my bloodstream
all circulation now is
writhing
with lost leader poisons.
My scarred skin skin stretches
over
dreams drinks its lactate
from the sun. The tastes
of small viadicums colors my
pills.
Urine fills all arroyos.
Beneath
each synapse the messages
lie
against the accumulating
dirt.
Someone is trying to reach
out
in a language shifting, lofty as
dust
to a heart alive on a fig
tree.
Gerald Schwartz
lives and writes from West Irondequoit New York, recovering incrementally with
the love and faith of friends and family. He can be reached at
schwartzgk@aol.com
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