Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Fold me up into the void.
Mute my voice in the younger
movements of brothers and sisters.
Turn my grill to the moon.
Having betrayed one tribe
and been rejected by another.
Reshaped by a wave
of feminine form
from the man-torn sky.
Plucked like a berry
angry at the stem.
Taste in the mouth
of the earth's core.
No tart no tea no war
wheat worked of life's hours
flowering from the planet
chaff condom's off
buttery has-been cocks
quill'd with mercurial feathers.

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