the one entry from marsilani2 that i decided to return to marsilani. nothing worth anything.
ode to phlegm
thanks to you,
my words have more weight
a resonance and a vibrato
that rattles like sabers-
what i say carries
the urgency of car bombs
waiting to go off.
how you goad me
to open my reticent self
how your mysterious fingers
itch the throat in me to roar-
and it is only the desperate courtesy in me
that turns to uninhabited corners
to bid you out.
will you stay?
will you leave?
my stubborn guest, sometimes i think
(as with all who overstay)
god made you to teach us
the appreciation of
the clear and the
empty.
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