Archive 12/30/08 - (2)

   

Pinching Myself

                                                                         

Tonight, I pinch my arm, pinch my toes,

Pinch my tongue, my hips, my gonads, my ass,

Pinch myself in my soul's solar plexus,

 

Just to prove to myself that I'm a living entity,

A three-dimensional creature

Capable of breathing, consuming, defecating, loving, hating,

 

A relatively reasonable being,

Wired, sufficiently, with my DNA's neurological circuitry,

To withstand the cyclical rigors of life and death.

 

Tonight, I pinch my elbows, squeeze my cheeks,

Pull my thumb, as discreetly as possible, out of my butt,

Zip my fly, after tucking in my severed schwanz,

 

In hope of reassuring my psyche

That I'm not just an adventitious fly-by-night

But a flesh-blood-and-bone specter of pogrom golems,

 

Still floating, hovering, looming on humanity's horizon,

Refusing to give up that giftgassed ghost,

Despite some mustachioed embodiment of evil saying I must,

 

In a barbaric time of jackbooted Neanderthals,

When one Heil Hitler could dispatch entire communities,

Send cesspools of "Jew vermin" to the gas, the furnaces,

 

Just because they didn't know how to pinch their elbows,

To prove they were still alive,

Say no to the too-persuasive Germanic command

 

Not to pinch their arms, toes, tongues, hips, gonads, asses,

Their souls' solar plexuses,

Just before succumbing to dying's ultimate auf Wiedersehen.

 

Tonight, I ponder why I'm yet alive,

Despite the Final Solution's appropriation of my pinched bones.

All I can say is this: kill me again, if you must.

 

 

 

 

 

                

12/30/08 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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