no pulse

deer are free from what it is that locks me into this space of ridiculous torment

I want to be a deer in the forest if only to affirm that an orange vest and a shotgun might be better than this

pills and talks and long mountain walks have yet to bring digestion

that it did not matter where it came from as long as the sender had tormented eyes and a lusty heart

I.  Will.  Not.  Be.  One.  Of.  Them.   (on the fateful day)

because I will have died years before, decades

(iceycold)  I spent my days and nights buried in piles of words, wooded trails and the embraces of my offspring

covering the dead parts with too much mortician makeup

forgetting that my replacements are just a string of hearts &  pussies with no pulse 

Jack the pleasant  Ripper incarnate will not get one tear upon his death from this dead girl.

Feb. 2011

nsj