We guise it so f***in well
imbue it in our Isi Meyaki and Gray Flannel
the incredible lid of dialectic materialism, Marxism
nihilism, romanticism Gucci, Armani Burberry
keeps in place the septic cesspool that is distilled
on pews, under minarets even deathbed
I often wish that muck on our minds
one day gets projected on the nth x nth
screen of limitless indigo
and fill the sky, stars and all the inter stellar spaces
with that stifling stench
* Originally inspired by Indira’s poems on child abuse but made it to the PH when Helen held the mirror stiflingly close to my nose in “Sun Worshipper”- I saw myself and threw up
Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Martin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lid/
