Cut Me Some Slack

the stench rolls
like a Hindu walking stick
columns of balderdash fill the skies

like an accordion of hemlock stems
the squandered overlooks  
remain today

squeeze tight
never letting ardent screams
refill the emptied dreamers chalice

this shall remain intact with impact
according to the will of men
and the children

never have been
baalzebub has not been seen
since he left Accaron just to the west

still the flickering of lights and eyes
garments draped down again
over bowed head

Gomer LePoet ....