Immigration

A Poem by anaisbelieve

the things that can't be said
those things are taped to the sound board
and i don't want if i am unwanted
which virtue haunts me
i clutched reproduction and then out
of the ghost and into flesh vendetta
purity sin sensuality sensationalizes
the indifference of bodily needs
this creature of dust rises in a fit of coughing
lays out incestual longing
to love one's self in a hand mirror
calculate in a hand mirror
calculate the flowers' wrath
(base it on the piston)
wisdom gathers belief around to let
it be known
the fatality of concrete beliefs
the dream swirl crowed
sky folded over field in origami
stress being wheelchaired about by a naughty nurse
swing low
flesh vendetta (wait)
i can hear that sinister sound of immigration
and of assimilation and of leaving my accent
leaving the colour sky and leaving the fields
and the lovingly folded s**t composted
and then
i go in in in
and when i go in my head i feel like
i am swimming too deep
the pressure too close and the rumours are true
and i am deep diving
the staircase into my interior is spiral and coloured
deep green deep green deep green
like the forest of my birth
there is no love, there is no strong emotion at all
all the pieces of me doing different things as i go up
up up then down then...
direction confused
and feeling my father in lullabye mode
how he would reach for the radio
"this is how i play music"
drain me of my self pity
angels have aquanet
haven't you seen highway to heaven?
it explains my faith in chemicals
the pale threads of existance dangle unassisted
the aurora brings its canvas sky and spreads
her blood
who else besides me sees the brush strokes of
remembrance?