Tuesday, September 25, 2018
Reliquary
The feign Camelot strides his golden calf
his thralldom spread like plagues of death;
toothless and mindless his servants for whom
trawl in their viridity,
spellbound in perfidious naivety
they gather gold to glut their king,
imbecilic to their own tribunal demise;
where idiots rush in kings send in a knight-errant
to pillage from those less fortunate
and call it Democracy.
- John Hardesty
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Man's defeated when born, yet he contrives an escape clause, and that's to be immortal.
-
There in this place dignity no longer resides and tenderness and love are but casting evasive shadows, the drunkard and apothec druggie ...
-
One morning cleaning up behind the bar there was a loaded sawed-off double-barrel shotgun propped up beside the cooler underneath the...
No comments:
Post a Comment