Thursday, April 5, 2012


I feel like Lucifer.
However, not in the loose
sort of fur. It is rather
in a tight-as-a-drum
feeling, yet, I have already
popped and broken
my allegiance to
the alligator of the gladiator.
I return my reckoning toward
familiar gales,
the west wind sails,
the unwanted snail shells.
The old days won the freedom.
The future wins the closed doors.
Make the troubadour release the
sequence of an atomic explosion
and I shall give you
my recursion as if it is an exertion
of an excursion.
Accept the broken and forgive
the foragers of the deep.
For they only long to
please you.

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