a free verse poem (under the influence of blueberry nugs)

[ThinkPositive]

b is for blaspheme
holy,
priests were revenant crosses
triffle hands
point brood fingers
at blindfolded pews
who spin off new realms of idealism
planting seeds near palmgranite fences
waving books of empty pages
to unclean lepers
who need cleansed by the very blood
that combats the human minds
instinctive behavior to question
holy,
dust covered closed minds
peer through open windows
to see knelling little girls
bowed heads, and easter bonnets
while monther mary drinks of sex and scotch
through lipstick stained straws
tasting wine disguised as grapejuice
with decomposed lips
that still laugh at them all

 

[chrissie]

off to words you go