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 Oct 2015 Cold-Bones
Brian Oarr
The rotten fruit shall be shaken* --- W. H. Auden

Do they somehow envision sainthood in the homeless
or extol the virtue of the millions toiling for minimum wage;
see themselves as the feudal overlords of trickle-down,
their enormous profits banquet omelets for the common good?

You know the politics whereof I speak,
the Me, Myself and I of anachronistic yesterdays,
the concave years of soup-kitchens supporting high-rise condos
and batshit crazy presidential candidates admiring selfies.  

I wonder if it's all because they can't reach ******;
impotence and pharmaceuticals which fuel our economy?
A nation moans from the exhaustion of despair with
forgotten cityscapes of odorous blacks and blues.
Head
tilted to the side.
She blushes;
She's clay to the touch,
Flesh to the mind.

My fingers,
like passengers aboard the Santa Maria,
explore a new world-
Every inch,
Every crevice,
Every curve;

She's the Venus de Milo-
Timeless.
Classic.

Delicate
like a ribbon
fluttering downward,
pulled from her hair
by lover's passion.

Her ******* are molded-
islands along the ocean I swim-
and an art form is born;
The simple movements:
Up,
Down,
To-and-fro.
Well thought out,
but not choreographed.

Color her
like the Roses on my tongue;
Entangled and Infatuated,
They speak of Youth,
Naivety,
nervousness....

Step back
and She blossoms to life.
A monument lays before me;
the mortal
achieve immortality.

Perfect
from her
Head
to her
Toes.
 Jul 2015 Cold-Bones
Bill murray
Me and grand ma' ma'
Are rock in
So don't you
Come anywhere knocking
And if you come in
I got my old grand pa pa
Shotgun
 Jul 2015 Cold-Bones
Silby lline
It's all gone to ****.
The morning brings my thoughts to this.
Wildly imagining other sides of the dark,
spiraling into a cold and broken heart.

I never meant to be here again
searching.
I have no destination,
just anywhere but here
in this abandoned station
where dreams have fled
and I am the definition of lost patience.
 Jul 2015 Cold-Bones
Kenna Marie
Shards of glass, they are pieces of The broken past.
All the while, my brain is disintegrating.

While love has a lack of radiating, it sure knows how to sedate you.
Stage one of figuring out, is learning how to levitate off the ground, no need to come back now.

Raised up, aligned with signs warning me I'm far behind.
Reaching for other sides, because so far it is too black and white.
its that special time between
the winter and autumn
when its sometimes snowing
and there’s no sunshine
to come leaking through
the clouds are thick at this time
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