Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Zombie Trumpet Phobia

Herds hoard fields
felled towards
Such ringing moans.

Clung to worships
Wrapped in garrulous

Blossoms throughout
The hospital dark

Yet stains the bone.
Fires left from intention, what
Thoughts sparked or
Reasons marred to singing.

They’re all after me. All
Night the groaning tuba –

Erase the bomb shell after
Glow so there’s no where
Left to hide

Bomb Insert a string
Shelter Digested wound,
The string stuck –
Wound around

Suffocates on bowing necks
Bent sanctimony
To the stone’s crush

Weigh in to fields
Fibrous or sonic:
Contusion’s two shuns.

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