The Deaf, The Blind

Photo on 9-14-14 at 9.11 AM #2

The Deaf, The Blind
Alexander Ziperovich

Thirsty,
no sleep in two weeks,
two different beta blockers and I sleep,

Inside my head there is no water,
I go down the stairs sixty six times,
And appears there my father,

And disappears there my father,

I’m in Sophia’s home,
I’m not alone,
Her family, uninvited babies her brother her father and these ghosts surround me,

The refrigerator not empty but no glass to mouth,
Let the liquid drain into my toxic bloodstream,
Diablo and ataxia and heroin are running this house,

My mind,
My mind,
Not mine,

Up and down stairs sixty six times,
Begging my girl for help – she can’t hear me,
I’m lost screaming mute, she’s asleep – I’m in hell with no one to see me bleed,

Up and down stairs,
There is no hydration,
I’m going fast, my blood pressure, it’s waning,

Falling out, the blackness, it’s drowning me south, out, into his liquid-less inferno,
Ten more minutes and I can feel Mephistopheles waiting to grind me in his mouth,
Blood pressure falling, my heart stalling,

This is the way I’ll finally know their fiery lake they’ve been trying to push me under for my sin since I was eight,

I wake… I think,
“…waaaterrr…”
She hears me, my chin in my chest, my eyes begging help, it’s clear – I can’t breathe well,
my body unfit for liquidation in the form of a nightmare splitting
me out like canon fodder – the evil of men hooking steel into the valves of my heart like a pedophile abducting your newborn daughter,

Sixty six stairs, up and down and down and up,
you’re reading this because of dumb fucking luck? No. Never. My girl knew somewhere in her deaf, her dreams, that something wasn’t getting better and she saved me and I live to write, only Gabriel the Angel of light or there is no god, I can’t know, but I breathe and my breath was shallow and slow and my lungs protestations meant nothing until she awoke.

Sixty six stairs, up and down and down and up,

Yes,

Sixty six stairs,
Sixty six stairs,
Sixty six stairs,

Is this the oceans rearing? Trying to impose meaning? I don’t know.

Sixty six stairs walked slow.

I touched the golden gates with my soul.

Alex Ziperovich Reading @ Da’daedal 1

Alex Ziperovich reading “My Poor, Poor Friend Jamie” at Da’daedal’s one year anniversary at The Josephine.

I Will Now Expunge

Alexander Michael Ziperovich

Image

i light my eyes on fire after the completion of this

this soul i vomit out splattered onto this page

chunks of hate; love; loathing; desire; regret; pain,

so many carrots, peas undigested

a disgusting rectitude but colorful

the family of blasphemy

and all the world remains indifferent

and all the world remains indifferent to this tragedy

like an illegal mexican immigrant packaging rasberries

as prostate cancer remains indifferent to cranberries

the entire mess displayed like a picasso painting

whilst auntie 2, 3, & 4 do their best to console us,

non-sequiturs about her mother not being consistently complicit

in the love of my life’s tainting? bathtub screaming pedophiliac raping

as if it was a fucked up painting instead of a shattering of a beautiful girl

and the razors inside her were not making loud sounds scraping away her soul,

her soul being sold; sold for nothing, just taken

RAGE AWAKENS

little girls thrown into slavery

little girls turn into women with infected wounds,

and a life that impatiently needs replacing

or a life they give up to be taken by satan or death

THIS. this, you unfit m0th3r, is your disgusting

complacence, your skull vacant leaving good filled with hatred,

i love this girl you brought into this world only so you could ensure she’d be raped,

raped and forsaken

as you lay dying a ragged old tuberculosis tumor fake caring

amazing at tearing organism in some lonely hospice/orphanage,

perhaps then, just maybe all alone in that pit on your way to the next,

will you know what it feels like to be prey; swearing to yourself everyday

that what you did was not the same as laughing and setting traps,

setting traps for your daughter to fall into until her spiritual, emotional, physical

neck snapped and she collapsed because of something you might refer to as a

“momentary lapse” in judgement but we all know the facts

i hope your tears are of the same blood that came from your child

as you let old men, as you heard and watched and gleefully allowed her to be

F U C K E D

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