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Image for the poem In A Paddleboat Pounding  the Malevolent Sea

In A Paddleboat Pounding  the Malevolent Sea

 


All   mighty     won
                            der
                            ful        it be, this Life,
which has to die when
                                       touched.

Right     we    live
          the Terminal Realm, square
                                                under
           Eternity's  nose,  and we
don't know  from squibbleshit
                    what to do wit this, that, the other
pernicious Lord/Master  looking out from the
perch       in      the      skull,
                                             where the spingtyme
                      blozzums bloom.

So dire is the dirt that dusts off this brain, when
           taut and tight          a great fortune
        you saw when they danced
         around death that was dancing
                           with Them.

o, chickenscratch  momma, come tend yOur chicks.
it's only minutes til the time telling you to ready the show.

(Daughters die of their of their own devices making dada'men
               wail and sob , and cry for grief's greater good,
         allowing no other man to look upon to look upon
              to look upon his frantic weepings).

Weep, weep, cry aloud and all mightily, don'let'em prick them tricks as
         would a surgeon opening me bloody broke heart, amidst
               blizzarding snow and icicling rain that of a sudden
                 come up         from    the   deep'weepin'    south,
                                    so sweet as their tea,
                                  so proud as their emptiness.


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2019dankozakpoom+a'pic@2019@@@@
Written by dkzksaxxas_DanielX (DadaDoggyDannyKozakSaxfn)
Published
Author's Note
Two pints equals a quart !
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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