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I must confess I enjoyed killing my wife
poetry [ ]
to Woody Allen

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [blindaswine ]

2009-04-28  |     | 

wrapped my arms around you/ it's the sweet touch of
metal/ that allows you to breathe
and as they rush to save you/ I find myself
peacefully asleep
they call it "a slight chemical unbalance"/ I call it the need to/ live
isn't it beautiful? the way we bend truth/ and make it
serve us/ when we need it the most
it's the quiet Sunday morning/ that staggers like a
ghost/ and we find God, dearest/ and we walk through
walls/ godly skills these doctors impose/ and love is in the air/ smiling from above
scalpel wide/ the sign of your cross
do welcome the caress/ of surgical gloves/ do welcome the needle/ & the drugs

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