The weather, that’s what’s in the day.

Hot, sour unease fingers our lungs

Sickly heated images from dreams

Make caves of buildings and caves

Of eyes. Those eyes- piercing as a hawk.

And mouth to match. Her heart so

Full thats its’ chemical calcium creates

Concrete armor all in bitterness of pain

And to see this young thing.

This foolish blind thing,

Lights up that 
Being, as though her body were possessed

For every discriminating eye

To hold my gaze. And the young

Thing prickles and mutates under such a gaze.

Her hands turning into buckets
Full of tears.

And squeamish stomaches

She wants to forcibly remove.

The filter system seems broken as

The important thoughts trickle out

And all the pink grunge of intestinal

Regret remains. “Wanted” mug shots stare

At her – surround her.

Sickening her dizzy
ing on the muggy day.

So full, the day

That its belly drags along the ground,

When crawling into her ear, to descend

Through her pretty throat.

She eats the day, and sweats the

Rest as an offering for this humid world.

Bloating. Her pores strainers for disgust.

Under the eyes of the women from

Her dreams

Eloise 30.10.07

2 Responses to “Heat Waves”

  1. 1 gillian August 9, 2008 at 4:58 am

    ‘unease fingers our lungs” – (grammatically correct)
    Feel like I need to sit awhile with this one.

  2. 2 Rozzi August 16, 2008 at 2:44 pm

    I get this one,
    the dizzyming is that a typo?
    the intestinal regret remains with the s
    would that be better grammer?
    lights up that being…. is that one of the women from the dreams?
    small b for being? or not?

    To me its talking about the force of the older invested female clan
    and the utter penetration such have against all protection,
    especially ratioanal thoughts about ones identity or position.relating to there off spring.

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