Digesting Thorns

i was fifteen years old
brooding and proud of it
slim, lithe and ready to go
i went out to open the door
and the sun came in
the stars came in
but also and incipient darkness
i had yet to recognize

i lived among the spiders
dank and humid from the forest
the beatles knew me by name
they called me brother
and the bees of all shapes and colors

the years have passed on
in a fervent march
ins and outs
pacing like thoroughbreds
barking like crazed foxes

soiled years have passed
and with them a phantom menace
waxing, worn, inexhaustible, creeping
and so it seems
i fell in no uncertain terms
and haven’t stopped falling
into the same pair of shoes
this gray shape of rain
that the spiders tried to warm me about — even then

it hit me
it hit out
i was struck by
a lonely sickness
a rubbery mass strangles
my heart with rubbery claws
it murdered me where i fell
got up again
then struck down

i have nothing to add
i came to live in this world
to watch bees go from flower-to-flower
it is the way of things
i cannot explain it
i am digesting thorns.

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