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Political Season October 16, 2007

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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Leaving the night unholy, in murky light, not dark.

There is this unorthodox scent, sharp and attacking

even the nose hairs bristling and recoiling like a dog from Ben-Gay.

It is a mission then to be coy, cool to the point of freezing

without frost, if it is possible, and it is, and it is.

There’s no walking, only flying, and flight is forced by wind,

behind or ahead, it is forced by wind and by wind it is driven.

Fear will not break the darkness, it only feeds it, like so much

chocolate to a toddler, and off it spins without ceasing.

Courage does not keep the lamp lit, but it can be the oil

if a match can be found, if it can be found and struck.

Guarantees are futile, they are the slipstream of the damned,

and gods of charity do not reside in seats of government,

though so many are driven to believe it, so many fall by this deceit,

it is why the gulf coast is still a ruin and it will not prosper again.

Leaving the night unholy, in murky light, not dark.

There is this unorthodox scent, sharp and attacking

even the nose hairs bristling and recoiling like a dog from Ben-Gay.

Nothing is sacred, nothing is holy, in the earshot of gossipers,

in the view of those gathering mischief like a field harvest,

carrying their bushel baskets of doubt, anger, and ignorance.

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Comments»

1. Jak - October 17, 2007

pulled me in. nice.


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