this lassitude exists within a
contraband of gastric anarchy
an illness rent with lèse
majesté praised ostensibly
as commutations brave – as
vague and vaporous out of
date defenestrations to a
stranger’s obtuse views
you know you have to eat to
shit to save your liquid life from
weak demise, and risk a spewing
death surmised as rule of thumb –
gastric flu you’ve wont to say,
as if to warn the World away
© 27 November 2011, I. D. Carswell
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