stoney language for the damned
throwing words like weapons
berating those that do not
     curse the wicked
undressing the head strong
and suckling the wind
    of it’s sweet song
the marrow in the bones of irony
steeled from its chill
reverberating the snide chimes
breaking glass jaws with their pitch
drowning sorrows in holy water
digging their own graves from
     shallowed ground
throwing salt in the wounds of
     the condemned
the sting an unwanted reminder
they have sinned in their beds too
stained with lies and wives
wilted good luck charms used
     as kindling for these sparks
wildfire spreading as fast as lies
and all of us are damned

 

 

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