By | 1 July 2009

you have that white chocolate
guilt, where it
isn't chocolate at all –
but something you've mixed
together from other things
things stolen

kigos from the Edo period
Bruce Lee's arms at 32 fps
crazy dumsaint and
Barthes' kleenex box
– that mercenary ethic

your head like a mixing bowl
and eyes for beaters
until at last
when you
it looks nothing like you
– just ingredients, cold
crowd on the plate.

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