poems, mine and walt whitman's. Also deth.

The Witch
I dreamed we were chasing her down a narrow concrete stairway, grimy
and always a flight behind
though she would leave projections on the walls. I don't remember what was in them.
Finally there was a room, with strange things on hooks
attached to the wall, shapes with no purpose.
I pulled aside a green curtain and there was nothing behind it.

She made us sit, and we sat. I thought I was wearing a dress
but I wasn't. The floor between my legs was wet. These
were apparently related in some way.
We talked casually, as though in high school, and
I said "So then you want to date
me after all?" But I don't remember
to whom. Meanwhile she disappeared, or made us think
she disappeared. Who knows.

I woke up and there was no
sorceress, no stairwell,
but thought the conversation real
until midway through breakfast I
remembered. Then came amateur psychology.

***

Urgh, okay, maybe staying up till six am last night was a less-than-good idea. Now I'm all brain-dead and I just conked out for an hour or two and I've probably fucked up my sleeping patterns for a couple of days. Why? WHO KNOWS. I think I was reading bandslash. Or something. And downloading crap.

Have some otherpeoplespoetry for poetry month.

( I Sing the Body Electric )

The Body Electric would be such an awesome name for a band.

Also what the hell is this bullshit? That's loony! how would it even work internationally?