Thursday, May 27, 2010

My Knees


My Knees

The months spent by your bedside
left me scavenging for healthy bits and pieces

of my own body.  A week could pass
before I found a foot

among the ruins you left at Treblinka.
And when it took two months

to find an arm I’d crack
and fall apart again.

Now, I do not bend my knees.
My hours are crowded

with escaped cocks my mouth shapes 
and puts back together with reinforced steel.



©  Sergio A. Ortiz, May 27, 2010

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