an archway opens onto a soporific plaza
which pours outwardly in colorful asymmetric
displays that once incited the bones of an organic past
steeped in a rich broth, an ancestral heaving stew,
quietly simmering to a point of boil.
the humble ones, once, alive to the core, move to and fro,
cornered and stultified by conventions, babbling broken mantras,
they attempt to sooth the spirits daunting deadly pricks
the lipstick girls of the labial folds, who exist beyond the pale
of a refracting sun’s light, hover between ghostly spheres
of a lost sacerdotal history;
wet with gloss, they yearningly enchant youthful acolytes,
who, painted in salacious priestly pastels,
patterned up to placate the Ones,
are fully endowed and exuding in virginal carnality,
fall willingly into their own demise, caressed by the
spreading tongs, in the act of sacrificial obligation.
an archway opens out to a thriving and heaving plaza.
Copyright © Dennis Foss | Year Posted 2018
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