This blog has devolved into a sad archive of good intentions, and I mean to rectify it. From this point on I plan on updating on a DAILY BASIS (possibly excluding weekend). At this point I would like to do a poem a day, but I would be happy just to get something origional/interesting down every day.
Disgusting Hands
knuckles attach to knuckles attach to a
giant knuckle and it’s all bulbous, and from the
beauty of the guitar comes the peeling calluses on the tips,
haggard with half nails–oral fixation–and flecking
quick–same–and this is the
American melting pot of German
sausage fingers and misplaced Italian hair.
the knuckles shouldn’t bud out of the fat
that clearly, but I have
disgusting hands.
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