Wednesday, August 19, 2015

We're getting there on two good feet

into this sea of gray--pulling on thin
strips of leather cut by irradiated knives
hung from squeamish clouds acid rain
acid rain think globulus melting pots
plop plop drifting over straight-lined
states of green fibrous inaction--yet to
accept dreary blood caked worlds
of cratered beaches and swimming
needles--into this--motion of waves--
rip tides yank mothers from their graves
and children with dead hands cry cry--
sea of--meaningful glances hard features
metallic ribbons for searching eye candy
spells--gray--misdemeanors in the cold fog
Saturday cartoon mornings screeching
voices in the technophemeral clouds--
dusk dust of shelves lissen lists of dead
bodies still shuffle to voting halls spout
part lined sinewy drawls--heavy heaving
feet--into--an afterthought--this sea of--
wherein lies an overabundance of callous
vultures with beady hateful chilled--gray--
carving beaks and talons and carrion
stinking like bloomed flowers in the
Colorado mine water flowing spring air
opaque mountain streams of cold sewage
feeding feeding flooding a great well has
sprung a great leaking ship sorry sorry no
sorry more think crusty thick innocuous
black oil for the gills and throats of peace
sifting to the grassy brown bottom of the
sweet smelling corpse of the noose--bands
of legs in marching order shift body splat
mind goose wings in combat suits chanting
touching their noses heh heh he heh mark
these guidestones in glory georgia proper
the thin inky line of drip the needle flip
walk with me--into this--

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