Tuesday, June 14, 2011

poem || David Jalajel


irate from things occasionally arcane
but rarely arrant misanthropic rooting
out the hubris narcissists unearth
in person from this mess as if your haven's
flown and elsewhere find your cohorts spent
a night's stint filling up the new beer mugs
the inn's old guests with pale engendered fierce
tapping by high jacked sources thoughtfully
exacerbates the easily provoked to
anger anticipating rainworms from
the dank deciduous dirt averts the reams
of strange denatured things to wed unstrung
edges a superego goaded exiled
vision to no numinous straw hat

No comments:

Post a Comment