574
Swim up the waiting home
with your brow and figure
and your will to kill
the priest, our king, proclaims
every generation
a new revolution following
the law of invention
the level dream of existence forgotten
what was said in a stagger
is not spoken of in the upright
until gravity returns
to the waiting,
all seeing
eye
575
My hands are shaking
my luck is lifting
the gracious artillery saying
what is left is all this feeling
the defeated insignia
the ancient greeting
no thought of pissing, witness or meaning
our king arrives with robe-less erection
empty symbol, roaring, deafening
we were made in the image of freedom
rising bright, in this sacred moment
576
in a new century our poets are silent
annoyed by sticks and long lives difficult
monsters rich with opinion
and passing imposters laughing
surprised trading blind eyes among themselves
talking through halos
the dust of done hope
the questions of the patriot
long knowing the dying moment
the judgers of sunset and gentlemen
the moment of sun
a new way of life.
577
O you popes
you joyboys you dykeless rabbits
your trouble soon doubles
your better bitter laughter
some yellow-tooth sign
of indignant honor
where is the king who will
explain you these sirens?
where is the soldier who'll
guide you through?
Left unforgiven you
shirtless and peeping
their hats over faces
their hands to the west.
2 comments:
love the umbrella lady's body!
she's comfortable with it.
I am too.
love the first drawing...Look like my head feels sometime. Too much noise. Reminds me of Bill's Soul sweep entry this week.
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