Hail hornbeak
Mud dweller
Wrapped in brambled kingdom
King of brackish dishwater
Iron backed elephant
Lord of the swamp
What honor and glory you bestow upon me with resolute parade
How you follow me, across pitted
Tarmac, ponderous steps in
Unison with my own
Exiled by choice on fealty quest
Gallant and proud, you rise up to meet the car that bares down upon you
Dashing Royal Colors against the common stone
Kingdom abandoned, smashed asunder
I salute
Your broken Grail
car wheels on gravel
trunk weighed down with heavy loads
the graves are waiting
dumping in IN is common with landfills filled with all kinds of trash
In tangled, well-worn threadbare mess
Heaters piled alongside harpied phone
Tumbled record players fumble to caress
Rusted acetylene tanks, open lying prone
My host a filthy leather recliner
Lying coated on the dusty slip wood floor
Packed next to mismatched broken china
Testament to my own vigor
I am not a flea market pawn
Nor white trash savior immune to scorn
My $3 sandals, books reshorn, worn
Waiting patiently to be borne
Home
Loba is missing now
One Thousand Dollar Bounty
Dog fighting ain’t cheap
This town. So many dogs dumped, lost and thrown into fight rings.
Mowing the lawn now
Childhood feels and smells of home
Corpses stay buried
Be careful to not cut the lawn too short
feast that is poetry, feed me in mouthfuls of truth, bleed into my very self
this whirling feast sustains me like no other
the lion’s den beckons
i pull my hair in great fear
i will eat them all
faith in myself, my abilities and my past successes sustains me – i am #unstoppable
Fingers slip on ceramic keys
Typing yr confession note
So the Press can easily quote
In dedicated ghoulish ease
‘I have stolen a pistol to kill my beloved
And then turn it upon myself’
You may place me on the shelf
Of known killers, cursed & kindred
Whispering that you loved her
Shooting first the love and then yrself
Murderous, hateful longspur
Blinding last yrself
You will spend a wasted life in stir
Monster, madman, damn thyself
a little archaic and old-fashioned but a new way into writing a true- crime sonnet. ABBA X 2, CD X 3.
insufferable
you bog blast
me with yr
lies
i burn yr house
down
i despise liars and lazy people who do nothing but blame
1st against the wall
When the revolution comes
R Politicians
In the USA, we have Republicans and Democrats.
Outlaw Poetry 