Memory On a Couch.

some one told me this piece of him:
that his mind fills every day with
images of his body,
ripped and destroyed,
on freeways,
in fires-
without emotion or reverie.
flying off cliffs
with no head and
bleeding genitals-
a daily silent film.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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Byrne Avatar
February 17, 2010 at 8:48 PM
nice one to read over breakfast...........
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