Jude Herrick Poet Rhyme

Burning Man Part1

Suture, snip, and strife.
Busy, busy, busy.
It shall cut in to you.
Betray the kin in you.
Take you off the tit of Maternity,
on self leave.
While (true).
To your blackened corpse eternity.
Enhance.
Enhance.
Enhance.
Your seductivity-connectivity.
Urban decay, no Rural dismay.
No shame or pity, only legs spread apart for a leg up on opportunity.

Now proliferate, obfuscate.
Make them dance the dance.
Make the war at the gates.
In my spell of trance,
their own distorted reflecting pools,
are shadows in the land.
Let off your steam in the daylights
dark spectrum.
Pontificate the ugly,
strut it around the runway,
as you fly, tucked beneath my wing.

Doves unreleased, choking in my hands.
Spirits unprovoked by right and wrong, Jezebels all,
only self impunity and disappearing
strands,
stringing scar tissue, where the flesh is weak, and willing to fall.
To the whips and chains
that give you my identification bar code stripes to mark your remains.
In the driving reign.
Only too late to discover my best laid plans bleeding you, grave.

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