The Lazarus Pit

Morality, like art, means drawing a line someplace. - Oscar Wilde

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Location: NE Minneapolis, MN, United States

I'm a writer from the Twin Cities.

Monday, July 5, 2010

The Mammal


The mammal
Regarded her simply,
Wagged its tongue,
Sharpened its teeth
On stony words
And pressed upon her
With no remorse

I listened idly
With my legs crossed
Like a modern
Homosexual,
Like beta

Tears balked
At her tarsal glands,
Fumbled like shaky hands
on a greased knob

The mammal mocked her,
Smiled a thin smile,
And called her tears
Water

I entered the mammal
From the rear
And forced fingers
Into its eyes
Until they gave way
Like the skin
Of grapes

I looked at her then,
With its eyes
I Witnessed frailty
And used the mammal’s mouth
To say “I’m sorry”
Forming the words
With a pinch
Of the lips

Her skin flushed
And pricked
As I pressed a mammal’s hand
To her brow
And slid it to her neck

I withdrew
From the creature
And sat back down
Exhausted
With a clean conscience

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

As I was reading this I was feeling lines of Dylan (Thomas) being channeled through the mouth of Bukowski...

Both my are my favorites.. I like pieces that have a veil as does this one.. nice....

July 14, 2010 at 4:29 AM  
Blogger Nathan Bertz said...

Thank you sweetness. It's official- you're my first reader. If only I had a prize to give! It makes me write with more fervor, knowing that someone out there is paying attention. This drink is for you. Cheers!

July 14, 2010 at 10:03 PM  

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