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Poem

A man wearing funeral clothes
Tongue tied, an unspoken tryst.
He smiles, like an affectionate holocaust

A quadrupedal wood, the locus
of a hoover act.
An assigned peacemaker painted
Over the Judas kiss.

And the one in a dress
I dont pray,
Nor his cousins are my prey.

So i return, my oldest friend
He bulids a concrete wall on 
my chest,
Waiting for my heart to turn into a sapphire.

As i carry around his gifts
The kaleidoscopes, the Pavlovian nerves,
The rings of the my eyes that 
aren't on my side.

The other one gets all the light,
The hails, the knees to the ground.
No parasites in his body
With neighbours mowing,
their own cells clean.

And four months, is a holy time.
A life time of abyss, retreat flagged love
Letting the devil's teeth out in every photograph.

Ah, the kids carrying flowers!
cannabis.
You lionize, idolize
Let them eat your dreams up, like cannibals.

Their tickers ticking too fast,little 
violet explosives.
How they dread the same gates guarded by a goddess,
No gold and marble like The Hours'

But i fancy my rewards regardless 
the red.
And i dont pray, my name is an oxymoron.
It rains a little and you ask for a scythe 

You, moron!

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