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Jordan Gee Aug 2020
on the day of the double funeral I stand
waiting for the rest of me to die,
I am that I am but I harbor a bad disease.
i should be anywhere and be doing anything other
than what i am.
because before Abraham was i am
standing in the empty quarter
reading a funeral manual on the
day of the double sky burial.
i’m poisoned off my pouch of yesterday’s mana.
gums are bleeding this is yesterday’s daily bread.
men cannot live off bread alone
and the jackrabbit horde is coming home
our own locust plague for a new Sahara.
i stand with a hangman’s fracture
lost on the old sermons in the sand.
following my family’s footsteps sadly in the wrong direction,
lost among the marking rocks.
snow leopards of the black blizzard and
my poison pouch of mana.
drowning in the fires we cook a stray dog
reaping all the whirlwinds I sound a 12 foot Tibetan horn
on the day of a double funeral -
perched in the dwelling of the solitude.
I find myself wanting to,
protect the world,
save those from evil,
stop sick disgusting people.
I want to rid this world of its sick desires,
I want to destroy you, I want to **** you, you who are scared of my words.
My words may scare you but you should be terrified of my swords,
I could command a army of hordes,
ready to come in and swarm,
on sick disgusting worms.
I would destroy those in my way.

— The End —