a poem for today, 20 September 2012

a poem for today, 20 September 2012

[a word-sorted sonnet of five sentences and its image]

Throughout each day I stare at the mouths of strangers and wonder how my lips would feel pressed against theirs.

It was practiced to extinguish opposing male lineages and thus allow the victor to sexually possess the defeated group's women.

For one goes to a Chinese restaurant not only to eat, but to eat in the dimensions of the exotic.

We cannot, not one of us, be doing this shit, and we cannot let others of us do this shit.

While I appreciate that you appreciate the work that I do, the rest of what you said is pretty fucked up.