Soon To Be Heard

singing the silent refrain i kiss the effortless delay of emotion in a tyme of sufficient saturation and indignation directed at souls now open to irreverence and no longer placated by the palatial paradigms held from wrinkled hand to quivering lip to belly and then to what end, the end of all, the fecal exit toward a cesspool of proportions large enough to propel the redirection of said paradigm, the analgesic laudanum quarantining senses and dulling the damned desire to be free from constraints imposed by the first one tainted by power, emerging from sure nothingness to become a paragon of pontific vengeance, parlaying the years served as suitor into terror filled nights and rampant devouring of those resembling those who perpetrated the deeds deemed so demeaning to the new devil, the child trapped in corners and the adult trapping the corners of the world in his grasps tight enough to purge the evil within, the image of him, that one tall one with the sandy locks and mismatched socks wreaking havoc on the tear drenched cherub soon to be pontiff, soon to be wolf in sheep’s clothing, soon to be heard…

by dan hightower

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