Willy-Nilly
My body has a warning label details listed in hieroglyphics as much as I want to be studied I don’t really want to be deciphered I’m so bent and broken I’m perfect if you’re on the hunt and catch my scent I’ll wait blindfolded by the firepit come warm your hands together we will terrorize the night This Skin So bony I break like branches withered veins buried so deep under my skin in fear of a poke they cocoon deep into muscle I beg the moon to forgive me I beg the sun to bathe me lie so natural I form clouds that float along swab up my aftermath I’ve yet to whistle last whistle was 1996 last kiss on the mouth was around there maybe that was when the world stopped and my hell – is thinking I’m still alive Everything Counts in large amounts with coffee money food love money It’s all so big a conundrum of consuming vultures It all counts in large amounts go bigger and get me some more It ain’t enough never e-goddamn-nuff We are still hungry Bio: Donna Dallas studied creative writing and philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School and was lucky enough to write under William Packard, founder of the New York Quarterly. She has appeared in a plethora of journals, most recently The Opiate, Beatnik Cowboy, SpillWords and Phantom Kangaroo. Donna serves on the editorial team of Red Fez and New York Quarterly.
Fevers of the Mind 
Reblogged this on The Wombwell Rainbow.
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