immobile artifice

immoral statuary

of curled lips

ponderous predilections

hammer gamma rays

into collar-bone shards

of lust and fallacy, phallus

shaped skiffs upon stream

of consciousness running

toward empty seas

of tomorrow

buy yesterday to change

the way you dress

and advertise lies

you should think

upon all that is said and read

red doesn’t always mean blood

hounds on scent of peonies

in the garden behind your house

where you buried past

and the next door neighbor

nobody knows trouble

you’ve seen just like the song

keeps playing on every station

based in this town you keep living

like it’s the only place on earth

super massive maw

of a monster that you could

compare to something in outer

space eaters filling the bowls

with noodles of soft brained

astronauts in electrical ether stealing

away the people’s names

and if names have power

and some one takes your face

then who are you anyway?

if you were to become



would you be any

different than you

are right now?

all of these things

i feel on my toes

in black-top dirt

and the worms keep whispering

‘get it right’

maybe, maybe

they are dissatisfied.

image courtesy of Pinterest

21 thoughts on “worm

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