I heed the heavy-hulled howl
That strums discordantly on hums of my seed—
.
Seeds blasted from the soles of my soul
Of the lost, the cowboyed, the thrifted—
.
Thrifty beggars, to & fro, with
Shallowed breaths beat & snap into me—
.
Or snap my strings and twist the
Words that wind through the alabaster night—
.
Knights march to Solomon, who foresaw the fall
Of his fire’s retributional curse—forsaking humanity—
.
Human in the nightshade—beneath a wilting mood—
Poisons the Sun—
.
The Son—songless—fascicles filled with lead—
.
Led to the home with his heart creaking beneath—
.
Be neatly shut in—off—stapled eyelids
Reach south to homes who’ve watched time
Elapse around—
.
A round flicker of familiarity—longing, clinging to his bones—
As the deskining—down—he finds his
Crocodile husk as the coarse scales now rub across
The body—he doesn’t know—
.
No, the raw can’t live—he knows—as they watch
For too much, in this hallowed ivory jail,
Smoke filled, as the butts are collected by the paupers—
.
Pop—through & out of—bars as the caged
Bird finds its song—
.
Sung & sunk into a memory blanketed,
Jagged—yet he blames his own
Poisonous maw that latched to the nearest—
.
Near East, the dragon is created in his
Ocean newest born—
.
Borne of dreams—effervescently lacquered orange—
Clashing against—the blue of his dripping jaw—
.
& now, how he laments his role—
Poor Epimetheus—outshone—outlasted—
And his—howl drums forevermore—