Now enters the razorback visitor
speaking from both sides of every word,
squeezing the sky into a bucket
and calling it concision to juice the bird.
Welcome, we say to the razorback bastard
who turns our hands to fumbling stumps
to play at love and American Sign--
we, its sycophants, we its chumps.
All hail the razorback lying sack
turning our eyes inside our heads
to be astonished that all's gone black,
a sickening formula on which we're fed.
As noir as it gets when all's gone black. "We, its sycophants, we its chumps." Just so good.
ReplyDelete“speaking from both sides of every word,
ReplyDeletesqueezing the sky into a bucket…
who turns our hands to fumbling stumps
to play at love and American Sign--“
How do you do that?? Amazing.
"Speaking from both sides of every word......Wow Shay this whole poem is brilliant and potent and sharp! Simply amazing my friend!
ReplyDeleteIt always amazes me what you can do with a few verses--you go to places entire volumes never reach. The malaise here is bone-deep, and the sense of exploitation and abuse cleverly passed off as something else, each word two-faced and each emotion strangled and "juiced." Too many razorbcks out there these days. Good job calling them out.
ReplyDelete