January 5, 2013

like bela lugosi, jim mckay is also dead...

taking a licking, to keep on ticking

oh for a love of sharp teeth
timeless wind, rake, rattle
and limb the trees
cut-mode every eye
a god and goddess aiglet
find tying string-key elements
at a roadside assistance bar
and grill, a fitting last supper

perhaps too many movies
leave a soul in an always
dusty future, post-apocalyptic
decaying leaves and stray electricity
over easy with leather gear
a cowboy mentality
of a life-time spent eating
lead paint while polishing
quick itchy trigger fingers

just outside the glass
and framed ritual ward
that houses sometimes represent
the wind knows
our mechanical joys
are all depot offenses
punishable because we tend
to hoard them for survival
growing to like the cycle
of pain and pleasure
strapping our wrists
with the minute hands
of attainment
and the hour hands
of every forcible removal


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