soldier
It’s autocracy,
I’m a broken monarchy
not wanted by Socrates, anyway,
I’m not a robot,
though you like to
will, that I AM.
Writing words with no hands
cursor freeflows, freefalls,
filled with a meta
narrative you can’t know
unless you met her,
but she won’t let ya.
Never understood
loose screws,
horseshoes can’t save me now.
Rabbit foot died,
tied around my wrists
with fishing hooks.
Too many cooks,
politics brewed in the past,
last in the queue for fate
Non responsive state,
of Kuwait,
kills my patience,
stationed in a portion of my brain
stained, Vanish won’t kill it,
spill it, enough of the games.
Figure this ish out,
mould growing on grout,
damp smells like dead mangoes,
plucked from the petals,
of the yucca tree,
poisoned like she,
who, spaces later, loses malice
down the dimensional,
dementable blue hue parachute,
thinking pretty white petticoats,
red-tipped tanned wings.
Bee stings and dies,
I sit here and cry,
in a cold sunshine,
lost a smile that lit up coal-mines.
Aching biceps, triceps, quadriceps,
neck at a wrong angle,
unclicking shoulders.
Mould her, it’s not so hard,
like plasticine, seen, scene
in Wendy’s House,
playdoh tastes nicer than it seems
bloated fail whale,
just about swim
armbands,
broken and fitless, skinless,
flesh rouched against icebergs.
Bleeding, scheming,
my life is a mime,
abhorrent crime.
Too despicable me to define,
evil genius always has a peninsular,
managing the lunar
against rusting capillaries,
shouting at the military,
so far from home.
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