13.11.08

And you'd like to have a close friend drive you off into the sinking pinks...

And the broken hearted phonetics will
Lose themselves,
Limb by letter,
‘eather by ‘ever,
Until they lie
Unnamed.

And the piece mealed fanatics will
Grasp at straws
Like false hopes
And woolen coats,
Their wicker goes
Unclaimed.

And the empty headed didactics will
Find their ears
After only mouths
Like moths,
For so many months
Unblamed.

And the defected…
Defamed.

The infected…
Inflamed.

And the have nothing for nothing addicts will
Catch their fortunes
By the throat,
Like pickpocket’s petticoat,
Ill-placed dependence,
Unmaned.

All this, I promise you,
Doubt not wordfull legerdemain;
The dead, too, will rise again,
And the liars will be rehanged.