hatred
hatred hates with bile
i smell its sickness and its venom
like laocoon its enveloping muscle
winds and writhes and formidable it tightens
Titans crushed to stone
forever cast to frozen screaming
and i awake to a fit of coughing
which i found to be my own
and to a body which hated me in such a way
as i was drowing in my own fluid
one in which its friends were as but mere pounctuation
in its gasped breaths and which have deserted it
like the very air around its lungs to be
replaced with bile and fast concreted blood
and now i know that eeling feeling empathy of the lung fish
before its sojourn per vincre to the hard river bed
sun parched earths
awaiting the future promise of
the premise of some next spring storms and
the fantom hopes of the seeping weeping rains
of loosening of the tight cage of rock and the solution
of the bonds of baking mud and the
writing release like laocoon freed
release unto freedoms murky waters
meanwhile i am coughing choking strangled
by the lack of air my bluing face reviles
the world and spits bile on all its passing hues
and their phantom colours one once called friends
culled from fickle pallettes
daubed upon the earth and rock
by careless art
so easy washed away