Treasure Island

Joseph Narusiewicz

(9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

She Asks Me


We tiptoe like mice
Holographs of the age of Hegel
Earth conquered by rational order
Math has become a talon
Their burning corpses cremated
Up the tunnel
Running with promethium hearts
Sterile little screws in the new brain
Chaos like a monkey in a cage
Regret sings on every stage

She writes from Central Park
Shot with laser ropes
Tired of the crippled currents
Creatures of the magic pliers
Custody battle with cyborg lawyers
Machines with wounds
Bleeding oil over the Bronx
She tells me of the flying messiah
We listen to Bach
We wonder if the devil has won

She asks me if I am human
Yeah baby I am
She says, good
Do you have pay pal

Submitted: Thursday, September 05, 2013
Edited: Thursday, September 05, 2013

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