Public Youth

By GregJHanks

Sun, 14 Sep 2014
  • 272 reads
 
Public Youth
 
Rusted tongue
Prodding the magma-pulse
Where fist and ogre’s rage
Collided as the aster’s pelted soul.
 
Spitting charred resin,
Rueful hand swipes to 
Relieve the meaty face
Grazing the satchel lips filled.
 
Mercy caught me running,
Shrieking above the
Trap door. I seethe
Impatiently, swallowing the alkaline bile.
 
Oh, brass supernova—
Invisible plague awaits.
Certificate U
Poem
Poetry