Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2018
Arab scarabs
wielding scabbards
staggered with hilts
laid waste to
idle Cherubs in
garments
embroidered
like quilts.

They're off kilter,
with no filter, and
wear stilts where
leaves wilt, sir
please lilt yr
tactless

anachronisms
through fractured
refractive prisms
to help the mind
unbind from
shop, office, and
factory prisons

Listen:

there's a
penitent androgyne,
speaking
sentence in pantomime
as though rhyme
were no longer
a kind of
berated
creative crime: But

who
the
hell
CARES?!?!?!?!
Don't worry, I don't even understand it, and I wrote the **** thing.
Homunculus
Written by
Homunculus  31/M/St. Louis
(31/M/St. Louis)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems