when the army went to the south
our choice of divarication was, of course, to the
east, opposite of the direction of opprotunity.
on the broken down horses that were fed us we traveled
as galiant as three broken down men on broken down horses
could travel, at least trying to keep our heads up
as we rode through the cobblestone
streets of the coast's fishing villages.
poets searching for the true answer
for the sparkling muse
for epic love barroom battles
duels of ethical proportions salt-smelling
wassails full of uncultured
scale shuckers cicatrized by the savageness
of the x chromosome
carried on divans through streets lighted with
the burning of inscenced torches
vanilla and
jasmine strawberry leaves
murrain had killed the cattle in the lush lands of
their fathers they were topiary in their
faith , nowhere near naif... a time gone to an end...
in the villages the poets write with feathers
and ink on top of ornately carved tables home'd confessions of sailors' sadnesses, tears of the sea dripped into the roiling waters below, absorbed into
the wood in such a way that the poets will never understand.
east, the direction of less opprotunity, riding towards
the china sea thanking fate for their sinology
six string strung across one's back, his own ecclesiastical
armoury hidden within the black tufts of hair twisting out
of the seal skin wrap around his ears.
they ride
east
the direction of less
opprotunity
Birth sign: Cancer
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