deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Ghost of Diana
Tonight I murdered the moon
shot with both barrels
blasted to hell
point blank
The crows
worshipped in uproar
as she slipped
slowly down to earth
while the dogs
bayed their pursuit
from the darkest depths
of the wood
I knew if they found her
seized body in jaw
on a deathbed of fallen leaves
and shook out silver blood
I might never return
my tainted hands painted insane
fated to wander forever
a gipsy without a home
The corpse can rot
for all I care
I won't go digging
amongst the groves
or waste one moment
looking back
I call them off
preferring instead
more faithful glue
to hunt routine
as I always have
replete with easier meat
content to quaff
the silence of my days--
my lonely secret locked away
from guilty trigger thrill
where lovers sigh by moonlight
and wasted bullets
hold no shame
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