Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Rational Lethargic

Let the heretic pollinate you
fingers counter clockwise
circle every arcus cloud,
tracing the baby fat
of all converted.

claims of a polyglot
and calling card of misogyny,
hairless stomachs are turned
into Japanese flags, with wine
where umbilical cords were, you
tell us we're being reborn.

You could see it in his hairline,
nobody had ever believed a word of it.
sure he was a coxcomb,
but he was our coxcomb.

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