Thursday, May 9, 2013

For Sylvia

Mama's sweet boy
Laying in a coma and slipping away
Her clay boy
Soaked in a fool's gold nectar
The fusion of light and paranoia
One very bad night on Meth

Hold her in the embrace of many women as she screams
As she remembers carrying him on her back
Back in her hippie days
When the human potential movement thought they had him covered
Those early Esalen days
When she searched the stars for her golden high 

Cover her in thick layers of mud
Let it draw the grief out from her pores
May she be held by it like a newborn covered in its mother's blood
May she be held by it until the shaking stops
Until it stills her body into a calm and dusty mass

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