Unhid Bio
July 30, 2010, 07:13:18 AM by Dax








Unhid Bio

The poem is a poem, not a shadow. Please, refrain from running after me. Alas, I am nowhere to be found.
A-head, then, on an empty wallet

rooms fill with literati, worse still
playboys and bottles of plasma
— gems, from far away fields
I was joined at the hip by a dress
one that whispers out loud, her best interests
lay between the law and a crook
 — a crook like me, in a crowd
I was in a rat-hole for lunch
with a flock of guilty pleasures, all
drawn from dark places to greet their real-live
stud, then keep him on life-support
till the boy child wrangles such ill-gotten gains
— no questions asked

Is it that simple, so regular, so bright as to unlock such secrets as to fill a throne, that, which would have most down as pickpockets and charlatans, then, poet, save me from myself.   



dr