temporal manifesto for the necessity of poets

steel hand blades sketch    
with a discerning feather touch      
     
for the surgeon      
precise cuts are the line between      
van gogh brush strokes      
     
painting eyes in gold      
country suns      
and the eternal ink of oblivion    
     
but you poet    
dirty nails clawing      
the refuse of words      
     
your garbage skin      
reeks needled abuse      
and primping egotism      
     
the jagged art of your rusty      
word pills and bruised      
arrow pierced bodies      
     
punch and kiss themselves      
with nails to hang      
from the gallery of tongues      
     
no immaculate lie      
to save us now      
     
we lie like dogs      
in this ass sniff      
wound lick charade      
     
your loathing tongue mind      
drips gristle  words      
like grease blood into the moon    
howl throat of death  
     
up to her hips now in amputated limbs
the surgeons scalpels long replaced with saws
    
the golden gough sun a red musket ball      
smeared in bite the whiskey bullet  cries    
     
like bayonet lullabies drifting      
to pine needle dreams      
     
a brown dead-hair of tree bed      
to cradle our fetal  bodies      
in the pain milk of night      
     
till the waking  snake      
choke day break thrum      
of each buzz flock whale wailing      
moan  migrates to memory      
 
from you poet    
dirty nails clawing      
the refuse of words