Morass of Anonymity

I sit,
forming kisses on memories,
striking them from time, as it whispers away.
Recollecting venomous verbs
cast to empty shadows

Eradicating the spiel.

Adjectives of annihilation, blitzing barren minds,
reflected, returned in silent echoes.
Notches gouged into the family tree,
tearing sons from fathers, mothers from daughters
‘till desolation offers comfort, disconsolately.
Tears, oil my fluency.
Chagrin deliverance to captured celluloid puppets,
hypnotized by neon stars. Concrete castles
raping biblical heavens, falsifiying resurrection.
My scathing peers judge me.

Relationships extirpated.

Sentenced to rejection
in the morass of anonymity,
I bleed sarcasm to arcade mannequins.
Deaf to empty responses,
while they crucify my heart
within the depths of a satin grave.
Abused and still forlorn in the spiral of the cigarette,
I recite musings to shattered coble aisle.
Turn my back on opportunity kicking in my door.
Scanning faceless faces,
in vain hope of another easy conquest

Charon awaits.

Abandoning relics
to my playground of yesterday,
I beg the boatman’s coin.
Seeing my name on the grease stained roll call,
I fade.

Copyright © Colin Marschall | Year Posted 2006

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