THE WORLD AFIRE

image

Look at you sitting there…
Like some Stuart king on your wooden  bench with velvet cushions, Staring down at us as if we come fished out of the sewers.
Tell us my lord which of our parts would you love to cut out first,
Which of us brings you the highest discomfort?
If for one sin, just the one that burdens our shoulders you cringe and rub your fat nose, what would you of those that burden our souls?
See you holier-than-thou prick, you self entitled refined boar, listen and give heed,
I came here crawling from my mother in earnest shock and a fine swat upon my ass my first pain.
If I knew what I know now, I would have crawled back in the cozy moist of my former abode.
Better kill her and I than suffer the numb in my soul.
So you say you will refine us, and by the fire renew us.
Do your worst!
Oh, there! You cringe your nose again!
It’s a brilliant world for us, and a terror for you – you have to endure us. But do my lord, o’er these royal fires hold us on stakes.
Turn us as your fat cooks do pigs, and do not forget the the apples put in our mouths.
You are e’er so lovely my lord,
My world is beautiful for your brilliance that my sight must suffer.
Go on then, the stakes are here.

Advertisements

One thought on “THE WORLD AFIRE

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: