sorenbarrett

Wash it down

The rotting corpse of a fragrant rose

sprouts from ditritus of a peaceful war

watered with the talking bullets of thought

empty shells on a pharmaceutical shore

 

The insanity of normality

infects news tattered brains

to stampede in lockstep

toward a black hole of inevitable gains

 

A doily of crocheted lace

woven by Arachne\'s hand

portraying beauty and disgrace

painted in ichor on time\'s sand

 

excreting the stench of neutrality

from the maggots of modern road kill

An infants sigh, intrauterine smile

Technology\'s morning after pill