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The Other
My double, he claims, his rags flying,
he wings his way at me on the skirts of his army coat:
You can’t just walk by me, he says
blocking the sidewalk like a garbage truck,
I’m life itself you know
and you cannot walk by life untouched
no matter how much you hate the dirt and shit
oozing out of my sleeves...
And then his hands fly out like vultures
landing on my sleeves and chest,
You can’t just walk by this life here
keeping your hands in your pockets
while mine are bathed in shit,
yes, I just wiped my ass with this
one I’ve got tight around your neck,
and look at my ass, you innocent bystander,
I’ll lift my skirt to show it,
because this is what life is like,
and if you still ignore me
I’ll lie on top you and let you suck my breasts,
suck the vinegar out of this thing I am
for this is all you can get out of real life...
Stabbing my face with his beard,
he forces me to look under his robes,
at nakedness of ripe red color
and of wild sewer smell
until I whip out a credit card from my pocket
and cut off his hand clinging to my neck.
He falls away, followed by his hands, like drops
of steaming excrement on the asphalt, but
his words crumple my ears as I turn to go:
This is your life, sucker, this is it.... |