WHITE NIGHT, WHITE NIGHT

WHITE NIGHT, WHITE NIGHT

A Poem by STRAND

I fear lines are forming,

as hole-punch clouds are storming.

With no demons in Hell,

the otherworld is underground.

 

We’re serviced by six Hell-mouths,

never stopping to pick their teeth.

Thunderous belches. Bow your head!

The Earth is truly blessed.

 

The false-visions cannot be re-fashioned

of the intellectual elite.

The oracles cannot be re-positioned

of the spiritually petite.

 

Peoples Temple is waiting for us.

Now our bodies will be shrunken,

eyes sunken for another f**k-in

 

Scurrying like rats, maddened,

from empty ritual to empty ritual.

Dangers in every chamber.

 

Polymorphous sex, lovely pits.

Hell is surprisingly well-lit.

Every girl is left gaping.

 

Droves stranded, fools’ footfalls.

Standing in rivers shivering, gibbering.

Who dares say Hell is justice?

With no demons " Hell is just us.

 

Pock-marked scorners and mockers,

dapper devils strutting above.

The crunching beneath our feet?

Not shells, something else.

 

 

 

 

© 2013 STRAND


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Added on January 26, 2013
Last Updated on March 23, 2013

Author

STRAND
STRAND

Portland, OR



About
Wallower of muck and with good reason. more..

Writing
FOUND LAZING FOUND LAZING

A Poem by STRAND