Resin Bowls Bring Frankenverses

Bring on the bombs!
Like King Kong’s Swan Song!
Down the Empire State Building.
Pound my entire fate to a shilling.
Rounds drop. Staccato-pop!
The sound of collated chops!

Like luge, or your mom with lube, I never stop!
Huge and refined,
To stir and rock!
Like Fugue in D Minor,
By Bach!

Sugar and spice quick.
A Luger and an icepick.
Freddy Kruger scratching his eye-itch!

Plans run loose.
Armed to reckon,
I’ll stand through,
Armageddon.

And man up true.
Change is the only constant.
Trained to find stains due.
Like Andrew Johnson!

Not the sort to laugh and snort.
And just shake hands like a tool.
Or trust in A.J.’s turning of Sherman’s
40 acres and a mule!

Spitting lacquer.
Poised to steal the reigns!
A voice to peel paint!
Sitting on tracks of stature,
Shit-storms past I avoid.
Only what’s real remains!

I parry to jest what’s carried in my chest,
Invested like water to life.
Anahata Chakra conquers the strife!
Distress fathers this blight.
So I gotta top and go beyond every night!

No rest for this stressed to crest,
True-Believer,
Wicked-Blues Weaver Incarnate.
I’m part of the Eternal Weight!
Death won’t dismiss me.
Epiphany is my soul-mate!