Tuesday, November 12, 2013

The Gutter of Love, or, What I Might Have Learned From Lou Reed if I'd Ever Listened to Lou Reed

This small thing that feeds me,
it's quicksilver,
it puffs away.
I slip on as well,
Everyone just slips on,
crumpled.  We give up.
Our food gives up on us, 
it's a spat,
the knots of ego and exhaustion.
The gutter of love.