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Friday, May 20, 2016

Outsider Poetry: Poetry By Angelica Fuse

Poetry by Angelica Fuse

Rummager

He moves, travels
through his own
world of cast off
goods

Some would
say he has wings
on his back,
a guardian angel
sent here to test
our faith
in humanity

I just say he
smells like piss.


Opium

in thick
haze of morning
(or it might
be night)
I remembered
what might have
been you
but a new face
had replaced
yours
and I could not
find the one
I knew.

                                    Tiny Drawing By Jenny Mathews


Brainwash

doesn't sound
so bad

like a cleanse
of the cranium
moving out
all the old
cobwebs

but I am losing
a sense of who I am
each time
I tear up an old
reminder

each time
I rip up
an old photograph.


Losing a Leg

a phantom
appendage
extends where
the old one was

when I try
to stand the ghostly
tendons
do not support me.


Goat Boy

It’s Mother’s Day
but I am only
mother to the imaginary
Goat Boy who lives
grazing in my mind
eating what he pleases
a sight
to injure the eyes
of other pastel dressed
doting parents.



Through

Through dark
and winding world
where beasts
pretend to be worse
than they are

where nighttime
rules
over all, a place
of shadow

there is a soon-coming
light
that bathes us

It has arrived.

What would Sgt. Pain in the Membrane say about all this?

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