15 October 2008, 7:47 AM
I can feel the banks rising
against this block, brick by brick
damming the mind-flow. Soon
the pond will spill over, or my pen
will explode. Thoughts
become concentrated, like estrogen
in my blood. There is no escape
from the contents of my veins, no running
from the alphabetic pool as my cotton shirt
billows out in watery folds; my jeans
bloat, heavy with drink.
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