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"giacommetti" poems
Inhospitable landscapes And opioid canapés, Give into grief And metallic decay: Your mind in situ. Moral compasses compounded. Green grows grey Far swifter than you think. In the blink of an eye We'll see different skies. A pale blue bloom Will soon become doom and gloom, And marigolds macabre, Perfume of tulip and Netherworlds of hubris, Will consume the gold And the grey. Except We're not there yet. Giacommetti, Picasso and Muller foresaw: We're all going to be ignored. Ultimately. A single state engrained into lore: Deplorably thick custard creams With a side of sea bream, Quarter-loaf multi-seed bread And half a shilling in the shed. Unimaginable- Immemorial. Pass the headstone, Don the frown. The bright brown obelisk of fate Awaits you now.
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC
Michael-Benjamin-Walker
The Bright, Brown Obelisk
Inhospitable landscapes And opioid canapés, Give into grief And metallic decay: Your mind in situ. Moral compasses compounded. Green grows grey Far swifter than you think. In the blink of an eye We'll see different skies. A pale blue bloom Will soon become doom and gloom, And marigolds macabre, Perfume of tulip and Netherworlds of hubris, Will consume the gold And the grey. Except We're not there yet. Giacommetti, Picasso and Muller foresaw: We're all going to be ignored. Ultimately. A single state engrained into lore: Deplorably thick custard creams With a side of sea bream, Quarter-loaf multi-seed bread And half a shilling in the shed. Unimaginable- Immemorial. Pass the headstone, Don the frown. The bright brown obelisk of fate Awaits you now.
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