Illegitimate
We bite bitter bitumen
Muted blood of the cursed century
Stony satires of brash silence
Bruised stones of irony scourged
In poisoned oceans of acrid brine
In bastions stormy, in boredoms insolent
Brilliantly splintered fractures, we hide
Craving stars, cratering time
We brazen spiny blasphemers
We prophets of crafty doom
Anchored in zoonotic wiles
Wearing recombinant smiles.
Ben Gieske
I like to read the sounds of your words first and then go back and read the poem for your meaning. The beat starts out, marshes on steadily and does not let up until the end. A lot to savor here. Craftily done.
I like to read the sounds of your words first and then go back and read the poem for your meaning. The beat starts out, marshes on steadily and does not let up until the end. A lot to savor here. Craftily done.
the phrase that leaps out is "craving stars" and I wondered if they would be the ones to " legitimize" us....a super American thought for a nation who has no real single(or dual...lol) parentage...other applications spring to mind as well....making it more interesting...