Sunday, April 27, 2008

Poem #4 - Forgettable End Days

This leviathan circus beckons me to strip recognition
A wooly brim covers the eyes of a man sans diction
Why bother resuscitating the pale, stone wings in tow
When I look like a lost puppy begging for quid pro quo

Ancient prose makes love to conscience, the penultimate soothsayer
Heavenly reservations rain from the sky, a pious cat says, “Where?”
Faceless judges point their loaded markers at frolicking youth
The Bloody ritual is consummated in the monotonous booth

We should all crowd around the fatalistic, the owls in sight of sun
All the toothpick shanties await divine castigation, it’s almost done
Slimy, blinding, gapless teeth are positioned for the take
While some impale pretensions and dive wristfully into the lake

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