[This Test]

by Z Wed Jul 16, 2008 2:59 pm

[This Testv5]

Lay bare
scrape nerve from pain
and regain control and scream red veins, deep
out into the broken, glass-shard world,

dare it to take us again,
fuck with us one more time
because we have grown
raw and refined enough to discern
the salty sweet tang of agony
from the rolling treacle ache of longing ---

that black surf
crashing on bone shard sand,
moves to deeper peace
strengthens,
and ---
to the skittering crab ---
murmurs

(shhhhhh.)

“Peace.”

[This poem was done initially as a test for cut-paste formatting issues I've been having from .doc to these posts, thus the name. It is also the fifth (and likely final) version of the poem, the entire set of versions to be the basis for a poetry writing demonstration I'm working on for the site.]