A Clean Forgotten Month


United States
39° 41' 46.1796" N, 105° 2' 17.5488" W
Cut the lock with a harlequins touch,
Shiver yourself in the jellied streets,
Dynamos screaming in their rainbow capes,
You will never belong in this world of sweets.
Oh savvy engine in your body
How I've wished to rip you out,
Throw you up into the air,
And spray everything roundabout.
Now friends are all abound,
Including lights blown dark with bends,
You prefer the dark, you scrape the bark,
In the way a cat worships your hands.
I am the suzerain, king of kings!
You, bigot with wide horizons
Who can't turn without collision,
Use your horizons to catch bison;
Find time to wallow in antic clay,
waddle to personal day of reckoning,
Wooden to the core, worried of the day,
Bears beckoning trees to take all away.
Night, The trappings of shadow,
Trees with bloody hands is all you heard,
You only speak to me with such callow,
Late at night with mind not so shallow.
'Vague cephalization awaits the hierarchy,
Rainbows and golden leashes hidden,
Bullet holes hammer and sickle-ridden,
Clamor to them, speak to me not again.'
Cross eyed whiff of the future he felt,
Never looking up at the red weather,
Organs and brains flew together,
A cataclysm of wasted words down the well.
This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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