Thursday, November 3, 2011

A Drunken Playground

Vitriol dresses after death;
putting away ashamed anarchy,
closing the record of
our gibberish beside a drunken playground...

::erase the chalkboard::

the genius experiments into careless variance;
fostering contravention of 'absolute' arguments;
lilting the head back for half a laugh...
while I drain the effect on behalf of silent gumshoes;

searching for the culprit of the crime of consciousness;
breaking the son of Jacob,
wearing musical vestiture.


::cracking ribs with sticks and stones::

Leave these bones to bleach in the sun;
Trampling on the body,
after the firing of the gun.




[15:56|03.11.011] ©c.thomas.carter

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