lowered fists dip the tide

lowered fists dip the tide
sanctimonious bull shitters
fight for a place by dead fish
unkind fast food minding
complicity on its own
is wired to another way to fly
dipped into why the hell of it
thus freed from dead man's prayers
brandishing new unfair tales
by the simplified minute

respiratory reason are all
one man can ask for
days when eyelids and zinc
are the only obstruction
one single wall can face
in lack of understanding
it is so temporary for us all
water eating raw stone
rivers running dry
the shaman has no shoes





Poetry by Bob
Read 634 times
Written on 2016-09-15 at 22:16

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Kathy Lockhart
This sent chills all over me. I get it. I have no words to explain it, but I understand exactly what you are saying. The title drew me and I knew it well. Powerful!
2016-09-17