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john oconnell Jun 2010
Sailing on blue skies
of music
composed all of 300
years
ago -
then,
swooping down
from the orchestrated
heavens
into the depths of
Aegean
green waters.

Wombing
as always
into
all that joy
is and was.
Glottonous Sep 2015
I'm fighting grind-split tooth and peeled nail
Against all my selves I call other.
Veiling mortal wounds with gossamer,
I claim romantic identities
Falsely, with sinister abandon.

Coiling ever inward and away,
I withdraw me from poor reflections;
From glaring eyes betrayed and pooling
Tar melting down from scorched railroad ties
Strewn alongside deserted highways.

I run again home to a cold box:
Fluorescent orange light grating down eyes
To dull accessories, who abet
Escape to asylum in wombing
Safety of echoing monologue.

Reason rides to mind a snake oil savior
To colonize my nobler instincts.
Blood-choked and complacent, I'll deny
My proudest breaths were spent defending
Glass towers of an empty castle.

Rend all your erstwhile double-tongued pharaohs.
Cast out inner sycophantic slaves.  
Lay civil barriers to ruin.
Surrender to grave knowledge of self.

— The End —