Saturday, September 5, 2009

Lullaby (Motherless, Nameless Young Torturer Torturing A Fellow Young African To Sleep)

a derider you say i am. i am
but a ridiculous riddance of
my gods, and a lad at that
with sumptuous filaments of
sinews and prejudices, sample
burr—my courtesy, my infamy.

a fiduciary inquirer you say
i am. and so i would, as usual,
summon gumptions of, bitter
still, hacks and better kisses
of bort. a derider, you say?
i’m but a kitten, with an ax.

on your bloodied face i blurt
out a laugh and loud lisping
for comedy / chancery blues,
and whether seams erupt on
the robe of my lost mama i’d
still laugh, secret whimperer.

a defiler, you seem to know
me to be. i hate your beauty
o hanky panky of a luxuriant
black aberrance. how can you
wondrously, crimson and fine,
still look precocious, dead gazer?

die now, please! close your eyes.

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