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Monday, June 22, 2015

reprinted poem about Steven, my brother, from June 19, 2009

The Knife

The knife is for those who cause me strife
my arm the landscape of your bites
that led me down this fateful flight
of angst and pain and fear
The edge of blood that took me down
was constant pilgrimage to your crown
you are first blood unglorified who makes the rounds
with your teeth of desire
and distinguishable frown
you make the knife go in and bleed
with savage thirst
to deny my needs
you with few words
erase mercy
you are the reservoir of my grief
you are the submissive Satan sheep
Dont look around
no one in town
to vaildate your middle ground
you are forgotten in boggy land
just north of the heart of where we grew apart
you are the one who brought mom to tears
you are the one who killed by thrills
so matter of fact with foolish pride
and your insolent wife who crucifies
your children of wrath
your inner scorn
your unrelenting chance to be reborn
your unforgiveness
your clenched fist
your death by steel
that I plan to dismiss
your fateful turn and lack of decision
your art of avoidance
and block headed precision
your false smile
your history
has made its claim
on my own longevity.

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