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Scream of Consciousness (or Less?)

Oh boy here come the words,

this Boer-War’s got the shot-gun muzzle in my mouth

and I can’t seem to get it out, Apartheids got me tongue-tied

in a tizzy, leafless trees coming down in windstorms of sound

liquid spheres of Tang bang against my head again

Hydrating my skin as it begins to drip along my bones;

Scream to life when the key turns and the clutch presses down,

revolutions of tires cause en-tire Emp-ires to revolution-ize,

grab the still-smoking chamber of the fun-gun and squeeze the trigger at the Sun and make

the Cadillac never look back after the vicious Attack on Fleetwood Mac,

smoking weed because my Parents got a divorce! I just can’t handle it,

there’s no remorse! put that shit out and catch a trout from the cold-ice countertop

of Marco’s life, chop it’s head off, then retreat to Fort Krosnicoff by the Sea

Have the long hair hide your face and never look into your Eyes of your Enemies.

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About marcofreschi

I live in the Ocean and write poetry View all posts by marcofreschi

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