(My beloved) Emily

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about the vicious traits of a femme fatale

Submitted: January 21, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 21, 2014



Looking at my dearly love, beloved

maiden, sent by God above

Shining, singing, speaking in triple-trembling tongues,

at will

whistling, warbling, singing scornful songs at once,

with a sardonic sense of self, sent by the serpent’s sign of sinister; they shun

and fall,


by one.


Bold, the phallus floating freely, that they say

until a portentous pattern turns their traits and truth to prey

let ‘em pray; and in age decay as dry clay

and to the dust they will return—today!


And when the pin pinches the primer, precisely,

pop, pop, popand again, baby

pop, pop, popthe serpent coils around their souls

‘cause sentiment is sucked up by the eagle and the scroll

since the rounds began to roll…and roll…and roll…and the pop stops


that moment; and steam and stew,

like incense

ascend, a pleasing

blend of furnace fragrance!

Fly. Oh, fertile patron, thou who sent my soul away

still burning, as I in age de-


My Way,


When I pull the god damn trigger and bring death all day!

© Copyright 2019 Dan Wilder. All rights reserved.

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