Love like Electroconvulsive Therapy

10 Jan


Love like Electroconvulsive Therapy


The poor dream big

(I know it to be true)

the beggars


  —-burdened against god

and maybe you know someone like me

stifled by the eyes on the other side of paradise

and the music plays

like a madman

a savage in a monastery playing checkers with some demented Gogol

who spits like a limerick from a child’s lips


there’s a broken coffee mug with the vodka

that never made it to the freezer

sitting next to me

speaking in the mouth of Severin

“she can only be his slave or his despot, but never his companion”

and when I taste it

it swallows me

reminding me of how much I wanted you

the clouding of brutality

I needed you, I thought


I can’t write you anymore

the dreams you flaunt get lost like dirty socks

I know they all do

all did

but I can’t imagine you feeling anything


goddamn, you look good naked

and I wanted to see you

watch you

as you took the teddy off

touched yourself

while I said something strong

pretending that I was

pretending that loving you

wasn’t like rooting for the Mets

a futile exercise in sadomasochism


always travelling but never there

and you know how to

trade sex like a punch to the ribs

and I’ve been beaten and said “thank you” every time

you’ve gotten yours

and I’ve almost gotten mine

this adulation caused some seizures

first I was sick, then I was saved

and then they took the electrodes off

and I alleged that I was feeling better now

and, weakened but resolved, I walked out

to wander


and alone


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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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