Chiseled as much
from spaces untouched
as the hammer’s strike
The statue cries out,
bound by it’s synthetic periphery.

The CEO walks across marble
Hanging his jacket
Lips press against either bottle or barrel,
Feeling is for the living.

Reborn in the duality of a miscarriage
Man grows old
Descending from woman’s womb stoic
His iron fists reach for mother’s ***.

Earth spins coddling paper thin virility
Her soiled hands constantly left to clean
The painter paints until easels break
Her brush dipped endlessly in vibrant sorrow.