a ninety fourth poem...'tar'

I've got tar on my shoes,

Where I come from that's no good thing,

I've been rolling in

The shit too long,

It's all over my shoes,

All over my house,

Up the goddamn walls,

Thick, viscous, black as

The night bird song.

And I blame you.

I've got tar on my shoes,

Indelible, ingrained and catatonic,

On the soles of my bare-naked feet,

Alligator skin on my heels –  

I've tar on my shoes,

And I can't lose the 
Memory of you;

Can't wake up again,

Untangle my laces,

To find the frayed ends,

Or scourge my soul

Since there's tar in my bowl,

On my shoes,

And I blame you: my

Heart a coagulation of rotting tubes,

Woodworm in my bones, 

Wood tar in my lungs,

Tar on the tip of my swollen tongue.

I've tar on my shoes,

Somehow, and inexplicably

Still in love with you.