WORDS are solid like symbols who make imagery numbers real
And it hurts when you look away; so afraid to meet real;
Where do your eyes roll? Inside a cave bone of human skull
and the rest, just, just decaying meat?
Mister Munster man — little lamb and ham
the tender feelings between my aching feels
like burning stars falling upon my bleeding eyes
and Modern Poetry is a deceased body of regurgitated
bile “ we need new renewed souls something like
the discarded embryo’s some use as a contraceptive
device //my priceless advice __> not any chance,
keep your words to yourself less they invade my
perfect thoughts about horror || she took away
during the middle of the day the unborn dreams
of someone (like always “somebody else”) put
the foot of a heel upon the throat of one who
never spoke! NEVER! EVER! EVER! FOREVER!
And so many loose eyes rolling around within the
so many eyes
so many lies
so many deaths
so many lost chances
to make the world a wonderful place.
:: 11-22-2017 ::