Jan 2016
Surface street alchemy , ghost line the morning boulevards , effigies that teem with memory fly past .. Some bound for Heaven , some Hell . Some wrapped in the chains of Purgatory's grasp seemingly forever .
My morning dark canopy cries with fluid familiarity ..Tears pool and maneuver ancient lakes of liquid fear , Jesus questions my right , The Fallen Angel seduces my left .
Sharks swim such impoundments forever , such is the game of pity wherein lies the feeding frenzy . The spoil for blood .. The wincing welcome to my dreams horror , a begging son removed from the honor roll of father and mother .. Shoot me freely , shoot me well , remove me from the static island from where I dwell ..
My morning dark canopy cries with fluid familiarity ..Tears pool and maneuver ancient lakes of liquid fear , Jesus questions my right , The Fallen Angel seduces my left .
Sharks swim such impoundments forever , such is the game of pity wherein lies the feeding frenzy . The spoil for blood .. The wincing welcome to my dreams horror , a begging son removed from the honor roll of father and mother .. Shoot me freely , shoot me well , remove me from the static island from where I dwell ..
Copyright January 21 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
** I recall seeing my father in a Straitjacket when I was a little boy .. I wore the same jacket later in life during a particularly dark day a few years ago .. The minimum wage caregivers drugged me like an animal while they laughed at my condition ..
** I recall seeing my father in a Straitjacket when I was a little boy .. I wore the same jacket later in life during a particularly dark day a few years ago .. The minimum wage caregivers drugged me like an animal while they laughed at my condition ..
