Swarm down your sordid feathers,
And sanctify me with clipping beaks
I found myself prone,
I am the meal
And the discovery of my own ineptitude
Paralyzed and sunburnt,
A blossom of innards laying on my torso
I am a collection of adjustments
I am like a trunk full of doorknobs
And I know the sky is like a burst vein
With gnashing pain, the security's paid
Made cooler by the spirit of procrastination.
But today is the day
Oh, today is the day
When the vein finally busts and the sky's ripped away
Yes, today is the day.
I knew I'd see this side of us
Our whole lives spent trading faces.
So hold me to my lust
So mock my halo with your wings.
I knew I was a comatose salesman,
So let my dry tongue flop and sleep.
PROMPT 27: write your own poem titled The ________ of ________,
where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal,
and the second blank is an abstract noun.