The Burning Bush 2, issue five, June 2013
The Peccable I Marengo soon leads the me to a lake, Lac du Bourget, where the you occupied gone out into the flaccid fixed outside financial or perhaps economic the guilty I swim in the your absence floating and drowning peacefully beneath the our sheets submerged in temporary infinite held comfortingly, ensconced, dug in enveloped and posted to Land Foreign, Distant Position Thebur - quasi nostalgic and real covers cover the my face, the my body embracing in suffocation of self. Head swollen hard with thoughts thoughts indescribable, indigestible fingering, implicating the me the they it burst forward uncontrolled but desired from the mess the I is driven out Blondi and Bella swimming-snapping at my heels naked masculine confused the usual uniqueness unaltered and altered but the I will revert to normal. The uncleansing shower, the implication the class, the you leaving for the work the I sitting at the our home the death the rebirth the breakfast the penitent I eats the she and the you indescribable, indigestible skin enveloped, exiles exiled and the peccable I tacitly sit and dream.
Kenneth Keating is a poet and academic. Originally from Navan, Co. Meath, he now lives in Dublin and has published in various journals.
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