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Thursday 31 January 2013

Joseph M Gant

We Play

carbonic poles
of light refracting,
dancing on a flicker stage.
time beside us,
hell beneath
our leagues of sport-like gathering.

pass the fiddle,
play the drum,
we fall in time to every sound;
electric in sagacity,
light behind the eyes—
embryonic memory
we discharge on the stage.

It's A Chemical Song

it's a chemical song
and you were dancing,
rhythm of the afternoon,
melodic and dead,
and you were inside me,
speaking in molecular cadence.
we frowned and then we woke up.
we drowned and then we parted ways—
the score and everything thereafter.

I Wasn't Born to Starve

I wasn't born to starve
in here 
where martyrs clamor,
breadcrumb sins
and eyes of cold 
ravens' claws of steel and wire,
scarecrows packed with glycerine.
the dinner plates,
the whites of eyes
we cry before we spit and call
the course of cold anxiety.

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