Post Modern Blues
caught bare handed
beaten down by the misery
love’s company
you keep them all
a god crawls down your arm
as you sit in a strange room
there are many angles
all of them are names of life
strange names we repeat
over and over
as they come straight out
I am your voodoo doll
you stick me and laugh
neglected by someone awesome
the man with blue handshakes
entombed with excessive love
barren shameful wings
my green skin evaporates
one virgin scurries
past the sweet rain
she flies on waxen wings
over Waterloo
the knives to the throats
a pink melts off
and we remember
© Deep Piercing Cut 2009
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