Thursday, December 8, 2011


Flowers, sun, and joy
getting stomped by a muddy boot
the mud around
cleanse my soul.
"Sir can you spare a quarter?
a penny? A nickel? A dime?"
I seem to have lost my way
and I'm thinking I need to be saved.
Run through the woods
where Pan is exacting his revenge
to all the girls who never loved him
and all the places he's never been.
I am his bloody scapegoat
I I I I I i i i........
Wrap me tight
pull the barbed wire
reach your hand into my diaphram
pull out the rot
the hate
leave the gaping wound
sew me up nicely
I'll smile
dead girl walking.
Wrestling too long on the mountaintop
Giving blessings too easily.
We kept stating conclusions
concrete advice of what we should do
The ribbons of conversation
specks of dust in an endless universe
flowed; billowed
into the clouds of yesterday
snakes in infinity
the power of three
drowning in the illuminati
.Pan came and feasted at my table
while the rabble roused incomplete
to a dead god
an absent father
a tortured man
on the end of a rope
smiles at the camera
Sacrifice is for those who pray.

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