Thursday, September 23, 2010

Every Prison Has Its Angry Music

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Oxen of the Sun 403

So our joyous beauty fades
A day secure in chinless fratricide
We restrain our affairs in order
To attend this reluctant ceremony of
Exotic doctrine
Of simultaneous absence
Of wrongful miscarriage
We are aquatic yet stillborn
Our ear is full of sleep and heir to
unannounced consequence
if we could only hear the terms of
our angry sentence; this would be the
moment of our domestic evisceration
of our defective acquittal
the moment of twilight
when we display certain memorable exhaustion
and the moment when we broke the king.

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