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Depicted.
An officer screams out against a sea of faces
Yawning at silence and reverent of wilted flowers
Basking in the glory of unforetold skulduggery
With wishful thinking and a belly full of insects
And bastardized biker bar bitches folding tits onto the skylights
With skin and bone and leather seats
Whistling in Tuscany under an illegitimate sun or son of son's suns
In the black dawn of Autumn
Under the jet stream
Caused
By
A
Lack
Of emotion and power in the grid
While local mothers bathed their sons in muddy riverbeds soaked through with lye deposits
Not knowing any better or any worse
For English is such a difficult language
With its nonregimented and unregulated tenses
That tense and flare as the nostrils of a crocodile
With an especially bad case of bipolar disorder
That bring them unto mad fits of hysteria under the pulpit of John the Baptist
As the preacher falls silent in respect to his G*d
And knows there is no hope for these noses fraught with dereliction
And the depiction of the Lord thy God and Savior
Rests atop a bust of Michelangelo and a tray of uneaten sunflower seeds
With broken arches lining the doorways
For the money was spent on Fat Tuesday with absolutely no regard to
Ash Wednesday
Or
Thanksgiving
With your mothers ankles tied about her ears as they usually were
And your mouth overfilled with pustules of salt and sickness
As you wept under the palisade as the palace aid washed your feet
With lilacs and rutabagas under the lamplight of a lamp unlit
But still glowing from the heat of the fire you'd cast it into
After another one of your episodes of episodic rhapsodical boundary dashing
With a pitcher of milk at your feet and sweet things to lull your sleeping head to dreams
Of faraway lands and men with chiseled bank accounts
That could plant you children that would carry you to water in old age
And fight their ways into your estate
As your last will and testament
Stood as a testament
To your wanton disrespect
Of
Every
Thing
Other
Than
That
Bed
Clothed
Not
In
Sheets
But
In
Mud
And
Dirt
And
Shit
And
Makebelieve.
Another poem just on the fly. Enjoy.
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Submitted on
September 7, 2011
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