Salt Poem by Peter Black

Let me breathe out all the salt slime that seeps,
Into my lungs, pours, when my mind and feet,
Kick rocks over the environs,
Mirrors and relfections and memories
Of today, being a new yesterday, believe,
My once elastic arteries
Corroded out like metal, thin tubes bleached
Hard and brittle and when I forget this cough,
It swells up my chasms I pray for the pop,
Give me a needle and watch my skin fold,
Out in layers, feathers, strings, explode.
Moving over phases of same
Watching today become a new yesterday,
Breathing in the foul current off the coast,
With sorrow and too much tobacco smoke,
Say: blesses be the ones who love me best,
Not for love, but there were so few,
Throwing care like salt where tumors grew,
Deep in my openings, there the slime sticks,
Makes me angry, wrathful, violent, the itch,
Is there and no matter how much I yell,
Lashing out had at those who wish me well,
It is time to admit I am sick.