Regurgitation
Painted
eve of blackened sky, blue blooded clouds
and
twinkling cold stones of smokeless fire,
frame
the scene of a midnight murder.
Gods
amongst the gutters living constantly amongst the shifting world
of
diamonds on the breeze, across frozen desert streets.
The
adventures of two eyes that watch the seen and unseen
take
up words that neither sign nor sing.
Beware
fair matches struck to wake the sleeping world.
Now
all is fire and ash, kisses and embers.
Progress
and destruction, ancestral and contained
clipping
laughter of elitism and dominance
muddied
cries of disenfranchisement and removal.
We cannot return
the forms our Gods amongst the gutters once wore
before
imagination led them home to
the
state of the unformed, without outline
without
flesh nor bone to cling to,
so doomed they remain,
as ashes
of a gasoline blaze,
adorned
with icicle crowns of shame.
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