Centipede Coupons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
America- the beautiful.

Submitted: June 09, 2008

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Submitted: June 09, 2008

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Where the centipedes walk among us,

Stomping our horizons into the shaking refuge

Of  shriveled American countenance

Shaping doppelgangers into our faces, but

(Setting shades of) shrapnel-sparkling trapezoids

Into shadows

Where our arms are meant to hang

And dangle past the swarthy shine of our

Westerner physiques

(Shine it

Shine)

Burn it

Let it fly

(Give it wings, and make it swim)

And wrap our confetti-glazed jaws in rusty

Iron

Bandages, emblazoned with the crest of our god

The one and only

God of oil and blood and war dreams and wet machines

Bathing in the youth

Of cosmetically clenched fists (small ones, squirming in crimson fluids)

Aborted leaderships

And severed starting lines

(for neverpresent futures)

Like fleshy fungi,

Scissored out of existence with the safety-locked precision of our

“God for a day,” coupons


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