Thursday, September 12, 2013

Ink


It hung suspended
Uncertain whether to keep
Its form, curling claw
Of crimson venom
Or to disperse
Curdling and clotting
Life force

Dissolving, diffusing
Dispersing with beating heart
It coursed down arteries
Clotting flow
And curdling red
From pools of poison
Venom’s bile rose

Inked, but with no pattern
Accumulation of
Inconsequential moments
The baleful eye and curling lip
The cutting comment
The slow incision
Of shames’ tattoo

Tattoo unmarked on skin
But cut the soul
And inked it in derision
Now poison turns
And rises in a frenzy
Roiling rage
Behind my smiling lips

I know your arrogance
Despise your pomposity
Your craven need to hear your voice
Your desperate requisite to be right
A cockerel that crows too loud
Will soon strut the yard
Dumbfounded at his headlessness

Should I be kind?
Perhaps
Should I understand your pain
Perhaps
Should I be merciful?
I am not god

I detest you and despise you.

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