What a Sight to See
The whore is only beautiful from far away
Dust from rusted cars lie beneath her nails
They watch the sun bleed at the water’s edge
Birds breaking their wings on the horizon
Dead trees still stand like their hollow promise
The old stars paint like children with splatters
Across roads churned by marches and black hooves
Forests suffocated like fish by air
Bubbles of smoke appear from his dark glass
Why does the striking hawk fall for the rat?
Birds look upon them with spiteful disgust
The crusted creature brings only disease
Feathers slick, jagged eyes this is the Hawk
The rat squeezes his stained claws as they talk.
No comments:
Post a Comment