Images For The Unrested
Pearl-bequeaths upon the miniature over-looked temples Where Eskimos and sullied munchkins read Shakespeare And where droned wasps lay wishing for the work of a bee, Nighttime perishes, and what life laid still in these arms, Fingertips numb, pressing down hard against my chest White-watered mothers swarm with herds of ghosts And tailors of old mafia shops... remembered the good old days, Guns, broads, cigars, and money, Sundown and cherry-covets perfume the evening at mass Gathering for feasting, always a little boy...shows too late Fathers in undersized caskets... fit for Sunday best And the cringing of son-forgotten stench Imaginative descriptions at which sign literature so meaningful Where bell-bottomed priests find it groovy to dance naked for God Each excerpt perceives no flammable excuses Winter again, snowfall for another season And these images still dance about in my sleepless head Rock-a-bye baby, and children know of no hate... Where blue-berried breasts... fill their bellies for quiet relaxation, Sleep now...and for now... there shall never be any peace Written November 24th, 2001 © on Nov 24 2001 09:30 AM PST 0 • 16
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"Pearl-bequeaths upon the miniature over-looked temples..."