December 8, 2017

Poetry: “Mission”

“Annus mirabilis,”
Toasted the thieves,
While spider-eyes weaved
Taut tapestries
Of turpitude
And antipathy.

Across the foothills
Of ill-structured steens
They stampeded in herds,
Threads of steel
Treaded through grime;
Rubber-soled heels
Stole structured time.

Slushing through sludge,
Tracking in teams,
To complete their mission
Of dismantling dreams;
They webbed borrowed scars
Into linked catastrophes
And formicated
False prophesies.

While shaking
From withdrawal
Of dignity,
They dangled bangles
Of capernoited quips,
And gave the good old gals
The slip.

The quiddity of criminal cliques?
To incicite infandous bafflegab
That masks the laughter
Of the mad.


© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All Rights Reserved.

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