And you told me
(reminded me)
of Hunger-

how far these seeds have wandered
have spread.

So few words left to grow
our garden choking upon tough weeds
leather skin clad skeletons
hung in closets of the mind
We are the tenets of the Yesterday dream
lost drifting away like gossamer
in the fierce sun of a slow burning candle…
like the slow soft luxury of eating pussy

cheap charade we play
smiles drawn tight
across thin masks sewn of dead autumn leaves

and you told me
NEVER FORGET

workingclassproduction.com, 2014