Beautiful Anarchist
The ruse of rain was immense, immaculate clairvoyance
Twittering sighs from broken families and hieroglyphic junkies
The harsh, whipping hail blew dust of debauchery into a silver lake
Quietly they sober
Growing weary in the dreary alchemy of night
The matrix of black liquid was a dancing star
A derelict harlot screaming for vengeance
A sea of rape
The angry benevolence of the clitoris
AH!
The warm ashen dust of resin
Beat soft
Young nimbus
The clowns grow lonesome in your shroud
Tearing up wistfully
Lolling and making waves
Clearly they shy
In your distinct presence
The mark of the beast
905
Hark my limpid battle cry
You beautiful anarchist
poem by Luke Holt
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.