Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
God stares at the lamb nailed to our door like an art exhibit. Stroking his chin. Nodding. Moving to the next. Let me gag on dirt you dug up from an old grave, eyes full of re-purposed blood and smiling like a thief hearing sirens drive off in the wrong direction Let me fall like the statue of an overthrown dictator, the people innately understanding that they are witnessing the dawn of a new holiday as my row of crooked teeth gets straightened by the concrete I am writhing on the ground and a crowd is gathering and I tell them that everything is fine and they don’t believe me but they don’t do anything to stop me either I want to chain every bit of decay in me to a television tuned to static and stand up from my foxhole. I want a dead raven nailed through my heart. I want the world to wipe the sweat from its brow and put me back where I belong. Just get on with it. Stop putting it off. Finally and forever buried under all the dust I’ve been gathering.
0
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:56 PM UTC
Aesthetic Reinterpretation
God stares at the lamb nailed to our door like an art exhibit. Stroking his chin. Nodding. Moving to the next. Let me gag on dirt you dug up from an old grave, eyes full of re-purposed blood and smiling like a thief hearing sirens drive off in the wrong direction Let me fall like the statue of an overthrown dictator, the people innately understanding that they are witnessing the dawn of a new holiday as my row of crooked teeth gets straightened by the concrete I am writhing on the ground and a crowd is gathering and I tell them that everything is fine and they don’t believe me but they don’t do anything to stop me either I want to chain every bit of decay in me to a television tuned to static and stand up from my foxhole. I want a dead raven nailed through my heart. I want the world to wipe the sweat from its brow and put me back where I belong. Just get on with it. Stop putting it off. Finally and forever buried under all the dust I’ve been gathering.
Written by
Wilmington, NC
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:56 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem