Hello fellow travelers,
This internet is crazy big! Let us be afraid, let us be joyful, but let us also start blogs about poetry and various writing, which is what we've done here at Butchered Switch.
We thought we would get right down to it and so this first post of new poems.
talking to myself.
Who is this 'I' that says 'you?'
Are they both 'me?'
What me are these subsections of?
It makes sense but is confusing.
And I awake chagrined.
Think about Grandpa,
being the new kid...
Then I wake again and realize that was the dream.
So I get up and go to the canal
and watch the fish jump.
They start walking around.
Some go to the bank, then go buy cigarettes.
Two fish box outside the park,
just a friendly sparring,
but at the same moment,
each socks the other on the jaw
and passes out
their mouths kiss the others tail...
right now you
are dreaming, freewheeling.
Point where even beauty
is no longer beautiful.
And you know, but you don't
No gender, thought, experience, organs, perception.
All this nonsense we call local color
And because I am speaking to you clearly
means it is the morning
and you will soon awake.
Forget we've spoken.
If you remember, write.