P Deconstructed

he does not limp under ash

like nosferatu starving nor ride
humans for game,

no bray bird spun about the crib.

he does not pray for devil love
stuttering with migraine memory,

the jets are absent from his heart.
laces aren’t tied in deadman knots,

never felt the sharp pierce of corral
or escaped

toward ocean’s edge.

unsawed hair like marram grass,

fish sweat

buttons in the shape of destroyers,

their stitches pulled.

mama’s feathers didn’t ring
the ribbon of a schoolboy’s cap.

zeros across his knuckles

just the canned light washing over
saint peters street

remains unlit

where a swastika use to be.

gripping the shadow of Nietzsche’s
twilight,

tranquilizers petering out.

pigs

SaneJustBarely
Imagine what it's like when he and his ilk gather at dusk. I'm going to have to read you in stages otherwise my peabrain will be overworked and my eyeballs will flutter uncontrollably. Your friend in words, Pete

leafsailor
for me a skinhead drifted past but then again.......fun and a new study for me

shanmugam
each line is with profound skill. interest was kept. thanks

Chaos1214
Ha ha... Quite a recipe. I'm guessing this unwonted fellow consists of a lot more than the sum of his parts... that's what's got me nervous : D

Eyan Desir
Good write