a poem called 40 winks

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
does what happen in your sleep, stay in your sleep?

Submitted: May 22, 2011

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Submitted: May 22, 2011

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what happens in sleep,
stays in sleep, no?
 
you hope.
 
you do your best to
forget the places that
you’ve been & the
people with whom you
have done despicable
things.
 
you tiptoe through the
tulips, boundless & naked
sniffing, snorting, injecting,
taking in, breathing out,
licking, stroking, fighting,
resisting, surrendering,
lifting & stretching, opening,
holding, squeezing,
massaging, drifting,
imagining (within the realm
of the imagined), thinking,
tripping, delving, diving,
swimming, sucking, lapping
up everything, orgasming,
kissing, beating, oiling,
vibrating, shaking, quaking,
sticking, enveloping,
pulsating, pricking, smoking,
giggling, screaming, moaning,
cursing, cutting, abusing, losing,
bathing in the juices,
sweating with the animals,
eating with the carnivores,
bleeding with the tortured,
engaged like a prisoner,
questioned like one
ever
so
guilty,
out-killing every murderer that
you have ever dreamed to
utter the name of,
forcing them to pray to you,
forcing them to worship you,
forcing them to pleasure you,
forcing them to feed you their
own flesh,
forcing & thrusting & easing &
climaxing,
gushing & trusting---singling out
brand new
safe words---
&
you got
10 winks left
&
your eyelids start to shutter,
flick &
flutter---
 
you ride ride ride
with pride pride pride
your blood now 75% foreign substances in
binging &
cringing &
toking &
placing the
cid on the headband---
tying it tightly round your head,
on your knees with a guitar
that you can’t play when
awake.
 
you trip like you will never stop
falling & echo out the decent
with the loud fresh tunes of your
very own national anthem
being belted out by the steel strings
now being plucked & struck with
those precious digits that in the
past 30 winks, have done such
dirty, dirty things.
 
you’re running
and your muscles
spasm with bursting
eruptions---you shoot
& squirt your fluids
everywhere, all over
yourself---& they run down
your inner thighs and leave
you in a pool of stank &
cold sweat.
 
then the lightening strike of
pleasure & pain begins to
ebb.
 
someone is pulling the blinds
as the light comes blaring in
taking all your secret domain
away & you are a prisoner of
the real time war on freedom
that you call a life---again. 


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