Get Up All Ye Bastards Of The Lord
By Karen
Get up all ye bastards of the Lord who never knew your Father. Never felt His arms, nor held were you against the rumble of his chest- never mind the fear, come sneer the night. Come snatch a newer sun. Run on coltish legs. Dance a morning dance around the winter lilacs, yes, the bush is frozen but the buds are deep. Written January 1st, 2002 © on Jan 01 2002 12:51 PM PST 18 • 0 • 12
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"Get up all ye bastards of the Lord..."