Putrid Stones
Your perception is obsolete,
dried up like the blank stare of an empty well.
I’ve seen you before,
prostrate to television news history,
casting your putrid stones
into a sea of fear.
Even a dog has the capacity
to reasonably tolerate its own species.
And you call all of this God.
Copyright © Edmund Linton | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment