Djam Karet
Donnie R. Strickland
http://www.angelfire.com/ok2/besick
Shut down like a sun gone cold, I ignore you.
Locked away in my silent skull
Until life necessitates my leaving,
But for now you do not posses such a key.
I wait for the conversational catalyst
That will move me, but I am catatonic
In your presence.
In Indonesia they have a name for it:
Djan Karet-
The hour that stretches.
Nothing so ornate comes to mind
When dealing with you,
Though time does wax and wan
Out of Synchronicity when you're around.
I exhale, clench my fist and purge myself
Of the venom of vulgarities
That has accumulated in my mind,
Like urine filling a bladder.
At least I know that today
My words have been a
Torrential piss of poor articulation, but youÉ
You posses but one opening on your entire body
And the essence of you is pushed forcible out
With every syllable;
Pure, adulterated, shit.
Djan Karet-
The poem that stretches.
Every moment of every hour
Of everyday your
Dialect is defecation
And
I don't have to endure itÉ
I will warn others.
