Friday, July 31, 2009


The recognizance on which I have been released
is not my own. What, exactly, do they recognize?
What has their reconnaissance found? What
do they reckon is in my heart? I reek of bad faith,
I wreak havoc, I recall
what should never have been called. Reckless,
foolhardy, wanton: I am the wreckage
of a human soul.

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