Blaxwausen of the Bordeaux burroughs

Posted by Erik Moshe on Thursday, December 20, 2012 Under: Poetry


you’ve walked this road before, dear sir
this white picket fence
entangled with barbwire,
a gauntlet of rabbit feet
long locks of fur used as rope
entrails as forest markers as
prairies become hunting grounds
Jarbuuten ancestors, cannon fodder

how must we retaliate against these invaders?

we belong to a secondary race of critters
balls, pale and soft with organs in them,
beating hearts of resilient, abundant hope
tumbleweed tremors; we may hop
and hide, but our courage never stays hidden

this valley is a cruel croissant with burnt poppy
dark at the root, mended with deer eyes
the bakers are in that house over there
that villa with the twin spheres & chicken coop

Go to Oxfordshire,
retrieve the Jarbuuten warrior clan.
Go to Cambridge,
find and secure our budding offspring.
head to the deepest corridors
under the cloud-tarnished light of Ganymede
our backs glinting like gypsy periscopes
we will make our last stand,
to turn hallowed earth
into a pinstriped cove of human skin,
and hundreds of discarded civilizations
throw them to the rainy wind!
only to tread back
into the dusty troughs with our dignity

Blaxwausen,
instruct the others to dig a trench
to bury them all, with supple room for our kind
to rest
during the spectral winters we live daily

In : Poetry 



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