Good Evening World

March 21, 2011 § Leave a comment

Un-easy ramblings of a coloured pheasant in a cage.
Children thrown to the eternal spirit devourer,
masked with the scent of a dream.
Germinated energy sockets, filled with the dust of putrid past,
“purchase the correct connection” say they,
then everything will assume freedom.
Grasp it, she says, in her distinguished sylph voice,
for the road to wings spread is a raw and unforgiving one.
Give in, Give in.
Open mouthed I swallow from the teat of the mechanical whore,
in my naivety,
the red earth beneath bleeds for my falter.
Do not settle, I tell myself most days, like her withered body,
scattered intricately within a blanket of dormancy.
See, see with eye, fierce and masterful.
Let the wolves have their tasty treats of desire,
and take the path less frequented to grandmother’s house.


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