Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Puncture

Originally written August 6, 2009.

--

Shh. They rouse easily with tin ear to mercy and platitude

They see the real you.

Quickened by passion and pain

Stay.

Unanswerable, surrealistic chimeras screech and caterwaul for duped curiosity

That's why you've been dismissed.

Cold-cocking ankle-biters

You are the sum of your choices.

Their mad yawp heard before the release of sleep and dream, after preoccupying activity

Go home.

Why beasts crack their skulls on rocks

A constant reminder my dreams won't come true.

Turned, warped and trasmuted: our heads held high in the gallows

What if God...

Can a mite shake the whole world?

only accepts beautiful souls...

Nauseous conflations unbound by honor, feckless dialectic, humanity untried, unknown

the way men choose beautiful faces?

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