Ok... here's my first contribution to the Lit forum!
Untitled #1
Purple mondays and translucent
-blue thursdays mottle the minds of
the inhabitants of Humbletown. The dogs
jump
run
feed in the grassy knolls
which are plenty in The Keeper’s messy
glovebox
(gloves are never kept in there)
Hungry masses flock
to the brilliant head of state
while his left hand knows not what his shoelaces taste like.
adVICE
DIScipline
mercenary tactics don’t work well
…
in Rome.
So eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow
we… live? Only if the non-image of the visage
of the One to whom we pay homage grants
it… but who are we to know…
?
And with all of this,
ants . . . . . .
just keep marching along their path;
carrying food to their fatbloatedengorged queen
deep in their holes in the ground beef
- mad cow –
in Paris? I think so.
~Cory Swanson