Friday, December 24, 2010


Your words fall like meteors from some ominous sky
Hurled airborne by the catapult
Of your immeasurable disgust  
Standing stark and unforgiving as gallows
More than ready to let battle be joined
As am I
more than ready to spread my wings against you
as the dragon of my ire
unleashes the infection into every-fucking-thing
Like all of those loves you put the chainsaw of your words to
Where in the moments of cheap vanity
You chased all of my dreams into a corner of some forgotten playground
& eviscerated them… one-after-another-after-another

In the drone of incessant lawnmowers
The wake of gasoline
As whalers become soldiers
 & their flags fly
At shopping centers
& the counter-culture remains anonymously paralyzed
Marking them like the ignoble scars of circumcision
Ink-stained hands
converting the powerless into copies of some sick perception
gripping them like waking drunks
laughing manically at the permanent wound on their psyche
as the dead become brandished with pride   

This is the hell-
Where they stripped me of my wings
casting me down into this disease of lies

with the imaginative façade that sterilizes everything
the empty space of projected illusions permeating
that irreversible viral load
an ominous reminder that hangs lifelessly
that my wings can grow back

No comments:

Post a Comment