Defenestrationism.net

Empty soup can,
lid still attached–
razor sharp.
Apples plucked from trees then
tossed immediately
to cider tub, due
to vaguest bruise, minimal-est infestation of ants.
This ode to those grotesqueries of filth and ugliness.
Those forgotten; betrayed; far from home or hive;
those rotten; those decayed; those eaten alive.
No lightness or laughter in being, only oppression, aggression, depression–
each ragged molecule a testament to its own poverty and weakness–
while two drunken mourners shudder in freezing horror.
We are quite closely related.

more Ravens’ Cry

home

by

by

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 at 12:49 am and is filed under !What's New!. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.