I.    Parting The Seas
      With Their Acid Tongues


Have you seen the herd
Their disparaging words
Ever felt their burn
Their teeth newly
straightened
Their letters
capped boldly
And augered in -

Never ?

Parting the seas
With their acid tongues
Overzealous murderers
Twirling their guns
Finger painting
In puddles of blood
Far and above
The multitudes,
Fainting  -

Prose, my love ?

They're but disgraced mystics
Moneyed for nothing
Soon to face their own
Caustic hmmmmm,
Hatred's vast acreage.
For an ill wind
Blows no one good -

You don't say -

Ask anyone.
Or haven't you heard
Page Six -
This is the way
Come
Inside !




James R. Morse, NYC 2012.
All Rights Reserved.