He’s beautiful, man – I think he’s a man
Or so he was when last we met
A pen-deviled mummer; a wonderful traveler
Even the years of then
As he grew older, each year older
Great wires embraced his neck
Then slipped into his veins; unknown to the Brain,
The body infected
So dim, the eyes; fogged, stained windows
Face down in moors and slough
Wire-sprout snakes emanate – snape
From his skull bones
When he spake, harsh discordant sounds
Abraded the ears
Until connected with others infected
With veins of wires
Beautiful man – once beautiful man
When once of Dandelion
Now skin of grey and dark bumped wrists
Serve as great Orion
Fair game – all; ’twas even of then
Ripe for this disease
Once blood-filled veins now flow silicone alone
This man is extinct
And I repeat my previous comment, except, this gets better with time.
😀 😀 😀
Reblogged this on Mild Musings from a Mediocre Man and commented:
Another throwback poem. I hope you enjoy.
I like this trend you are on. Puts me in mind of the smoke filled basement coffee houses I hung out (and read or screamed poetry) in days of yore, when I was a love beaded, multi-hair braided, hip hugging bell bottomed fairy child. Good memories brought to mind with this one – keep it up. Let those creative rivers flood over the banks.
Thank you! I’m still recovering after this last semester, so my output has taken a sharp dive. However, I’m pleased with the reception this poem has had; it is very encouraging. 😀
Very striking imagery in the poem…a concise portrait.
It must be your influence on my writing then! 🙂
Thank you