The god of the crowd

  Syrupy  gravy on the grave,

  ethyl habits,autistic rabbits,

 pervasive mental lament ,

   nothing  in sight,

 no sound ,no sought ...

Washy coffee my soap ,

cold chicken soup opera,

catacombs members,

hecatombs memories,

going up in smoke ...

I hate your grubby noses 

in my shabby bag of words ,

restless shadows, shady bods !

   In you  I  trust 

  God of the crowd ! 

From these media coverlips,

  hide and protect me ! 

 

   

 

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