Us: Immolated fossils, entombed by the day,
Petrified by currency, by resin and blue clay.
Us: Infants of despair and surrogates by choice,
Cradled by the ersatz of symphony and voice.
Us: Peddlers of tincture, retailers by all means,
Minions of the crowd, dyed by ought and deed.
Us: Anonymous holograms, startled in the night,
Yearning for intensity, for amplitude and light.
Us: Vacillating tendrils, wire-drawn by the load,
Coiling from the honeysuckle, clinging to the goad.
We the ecumenical, the federated and bestrewn,
Harnessed to the magma of day’s tackle and garlands due.
written.work.Copyright© 2011-2012. All rights reserved