In Hell, I’ll be in good company

Dedicated to the Death South
Hitler, Stalin, Mao and men
who claimed God or the People
led them here reside in cool
flames. Wriggling in fire
or being ground by the teeth 
of the starving.I was a lender 
who charged intrest. So, I wake
having different parts of myself
slowly stolen. One day I will have two 
brown eyes and the next, an empty socket. 
My unbaptised child runs around the first circle
just a head of the cloud of insects that sting him.

 

 

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A Bad Line

You

Are a poem.

Each second

is a letter

and every movement

a punctuation.

What will you write

with your days?

No one knows when

their pen will run dry

so write bold what you want

the world to remember

and dare the rain to erase your words.

Dare the clouds to cover them

and the sun to shine

on them until they fade.

Stop

I am not everything I say
If I was then what could I be.

 

Mirror bend me and reflect
What I shape myself into

 

So that am I safe to walk streets.
The Cosby sweater, before

 

It became a mark of shame
Was a cloak of invisibility.

 

The traffic stops, police
Who spit your name at you

 

With the smoothness of fish
Leaping out of the sea.

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