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Sep 2017
Standing accused
Only seven winters to my name
Moused by my fathers presence.
The very fear of it
Pressing the notion of gallows
Into the wooden casing
of our Iowa doorworks.

Challenging the gateway,
The neighborhood
John wayne gacey
Barely hiding his knives
Behind bruise cloaked eyes.
His corner man?
The no **** taking mother?

There were words
Little parental valkyrie fighting
In the air, encircling my head
With clashing shield and spear.
And finally the question.

Why did you do it?

All stared at the tiny
Self proclaimed savior of worms, snakes, and birds.

You see,

Bill was attempting to make an end.
The end of yet another small life.
And so when seeing bill peddling
Toward the beginnings of a robin
Upon surely what was that robins ending.
Seven winters brave flew across
The grand expanse of 7th st
Slamming into the animal antichrist,
Scooping up that prey,
And retreating to the stanktity*
That was our garage.

While that poured from my mind,
Like a voiceless demigod
Left to statue in the garden
Of inexperience.

Only this escaped,
A horse and cracked,
Solid stab at the truth.
"Because my heart told me to"
Behind the then untamed fiery youth
In my fathers eyes, the fury...
Was the golden pride
Only found
Singular ever
In that one
place.
*Stanktity; the quality of being sacred yet stanky.
John Michael Biely
Written by
John Michael Biely  M/phoenix
(M/phoenix)   
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