Bones: a Utopian Dream
The dark poet
every word is a piece cut from a victim.
Every letter sliced into the body
Anger is filled in the aftermath,
because the poem is never perfect and
he has to try again and again to get it
just right.
He tried to construct a poem from
human and animal insides
on a cork boarded wall in the basement
of his house, spleens and other red
things, calligraphy with precision
made of beautiful dark crimson-
It still wasn't right.
He tried then, to write on rice paper
With blue soaked gray matter.
The brain is very easy to mold into
letters.
It just did not give off the glitter
he thought it deserved.
Then came skin, so malleable and pliant-
Thought his masterpiece was here-
until it dried and shriveled
In frustration he cried...
Why can't this be perfect?
"Must show the world the greatest
Masterpiece of all time!"
Then came the teeth, some baby
teeth, some rotten "old man" teeth.
Using squares and roots- he thought it
a hoot! Until the glue started to wear off from the paper...
Ahhh, another almost perfectly formed masterpiece!
Gone to the incinerator-
Traveling far and wide
town after town, donor after donor,
He was stuck in his own purgatory
with perfection obsessing his mind,
So excited he began to climb his
way into his own wild ride!
His art! A new start! Mind boggling-
Brain synapses switching and toggling.
Bones! Yes! beautiful and polished
This MUST work, oh how he wished.
So to work he began once again-
On his masterpiece of sin.
Slicing, dicing, distilling and boiling
off the skin was the hardest part,
Then to bleach, polish, heat and mold
every bone so perfect on a background
so bold!
Oh! the green moss backing, with perfect white letters,
It really couldn't get any better!
Accentuated here and there with a red blood splatter
and a hint of gold.
His poem, 900 words long, were to him
His beautiful and soulful song...
How many people died? Who cares!
He had his masterpiece with everyone to share.
Out into the world he ventured
With his masterpiece;
A Utopian adventure!
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