The Earth is now awake and resolute
In the possibility of errors.
The poet cleaves in the hide of his own words
With mislaid commas
It is an imitation of the natural order--
Of the muddy pass he passed
Rich in chipped shale and schist
And hardened carcasses preserved prone
Of lost hours and memories of sunburnt classrooms
Owing more to the glow
The onus of the intellect as it grows.
Be satisfied if adrift:
Move now barefooted through the Earth,
Embedded as a comma yourself,
And enliven the blood in your dizzy veins.
Name That Christmas Horror Tagline! -
16 hours ago