deepundergroundpoetry.com
Teenage Fauna.
I am a product of moderate excess; of the reddish buzz
Concealed in my eyes - like an insect obscured by
An LCD screen. This
Is not a bitter omen of rage, but a leisurely pupil learning the traditions
Of the relaxed veins; the lesson of acedia.
Accessible only through special,
Natural rituals.
There are streaks of corn, a homely blur that hangs,
Like dull tinsel around the rims of my eye.
The yellow mane on the naked scruff of my countryside:
Their gilt edges sluggishly wave as I speed past;
I am an eternal passenger because
I am too scared to proceed alone.
I recede in an ocean of duvets and other’s beds,
A material contortionist, soft yet smothering –
An impartial mattress mother who has moulded me;
I am a leech
To my peer’s comfort, a tick in the field of
Lazy dreams: I became the
Creature of covert.
But I am not morally abysmal, as much as any other
Slovenly creature in my herd can be.
Is it not natural to chew on seeds like a music bird?
And mimic birds,
And rote?
I will not become extinct,
I have my steely talon
In my link of the chain;
My habitat.
I’m clawing up now,
Place by place.
Replacement by replacement.
Concealed in my eyes - like an insect obscured by
An LCD screen. This
Is not a bitter omen of rage, but a leisurely pupil learning the traditions
Of the relaxed veins; the lesson of acedia.
Accessible only through special,
Natural rituals.
There are streaks of corn, a homely blur that hangs,
Like dull tinsel around the rims of my eye.
The yellow mane on the naked scruff of my countryside:
Their gilt edges sluggishly wave as I speed past;
I am an eternal passenger because
I am too scared to proceed alone.
I recede in an ocean of duvets and other’s beds,
A material contortionist, soft yet smothering –
An impartial mattress mother who has moulded me;
I am a leech
To my peer’s comfort, a tick in the field of
Lazy dreams: I became the
Creature of covert.
But I am not morally abysmal, as much as any other
Slovenly creature in my herd can be.
Is it not natural to chew on seeds like a music bird?
And mimic birds,
And rote?
I will not become extinct,
I have my steely talon
In my link of the chain;
My habitat.
I’m clawing up now,
Place by place.
Replacement by replacement.
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