On Corpses…….

The Parable of Poetry

On corpses I’m gazing, carcasses grazing/eye gawking and raging, to caution these cave men/ I’m walking with grave men, our talk is engaging/ I’m oft in amazement, a dog feeling caged in/ bars for the ages, alive in a cell/ I’m nice, you can tell, that I’m writing it well/ genetic codes on paper, writing my self/ the DNA of metaphors, are right in my cells/ have patience, I’m weighing, to decipher the scales/ or to edge with the Sword, slicing the veils/ there’s a fountain of youth, for this life in a well/ overboard, can you stomach spending nights in a whale/ fishing for dreams, how rigid the streams/ cringes, it deems that the night isn’t frail/ in the gutters and drains, with the mice and the snails/ where the weakest are strong, and their might will prevail/ no wiggle room, and a nudge from the feistiest tail/ can…

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