|As Perishable, as Coincidence
Author: Lost In Segue PM
Wayward poems of a civil warRated: Fiction T - English - Spiritual - Chapters: 8 - Words: 877 - Reviews: 1 - Updated: 03-14-11 - Published: 11-28-10 - id: 2868805
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If he survived The March,
he might live to see a gun
before a man, his eyes glowing
of nothing but hate for this world.
The War was hardly civil,
a banal crux of indigene scarcities,
of choosing Heaven's diagonals
–juxtapositions– all opposing;
and from its exigent front
to inverting lens,
to finding view in a large box camera,
he was a posturing bower of double bluffs,
pretentious –minus the negative tinge.
The depths of his legs were blunt,
formed with ramming and fleeing in mind;
as for his upper mass – for controlling,
it held little but 'still' and sight for a smoothbore.
Over the seizing sounds of cannons,
of far-taut, well-taught false-simplicities,
a savage peroration for many,
from which many and he both prayed,
each shot through
from passing form
is nothing more than against me."