and my outlook on the day,
the sun has refused to cooperate,
and we must use the streetlamps
of whores to guide us around;
uncertain desperation penetrates
our senses as if being raped by
some unknown entity whose
purpose is far from sexual,
even though if feels the same;
traffic snakes patrol our every
movement, slithering in and out
of their hiding places, watching
and enjoying release vicariously;
no body of evidence is here,
in fact, no body at all, and yet,
there is a dark omnipresence
and silent cries of fear
from those who have
no answers
no doubts
that this is a precursor.
4Dec14
No comments:
Post a Comment