No More Protection

[JEROME REPRISES
ADAPTATION OF VIOLENT
SPEAK-DISORDER AND
REVENGE CONCEPT LINES
FOR DREADLOCK FEAST IN
HIGH-RESOLUTION
DREAMS FUNDING THE
PRISTINE OPERA]

i

not something to be swallowed
and detonated in my interior, but
to be collapsed by.

it’s easier to walk
when your legs
splinter.

protruding bone and the pain,
bite down and weather it like bad
karaoke. but no more will i hate
disease ridden cables running the
length of my spine, as it curves
toward the last monologue.

the word embargo exhibits tomorrow,
nothing but sound
and a local anaesthetic.

no post-modern jazz.

ii

take the case of porcelain:
her 15 personas each imbedded
with a bullet for company & clean sheets for
 the morning after.

she’s deleted, high on strings and bass.
no orchestra can relate the greek tragedy
better than abigail, when she’s strapped and
stripped.

it’s been a day and she’s still warm.

iii

take out my eyes.