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One Monument's Regurgitation

by Philip F De Pinto




He stumbling leaned on a fog - columnar in shape
As everywhere was sacred ground

He profaning in his heart inserted fags of fingers in his mouth
Heaved up the old bulimia of camaraderie ships within the fatty
Least secured and noteworthy portions of himself

Into cupped hands as a way of mis - communique

And we stumbling and having no such columnar fog to lean on
Sickened and prurient in our fashion

Regurgitate what we cannot communicate
On grounds less sacred

Like rough hewn monuments made slick in the editorial wind
Regurgitate bulimic portions of themselves they cannot communicate

And down rush the angels and up the demons
From their seventh heaven or hell

To lap up not as a lack of communication but nutrient


01/18/2013

Posted on 01/18/2013
Copyright © 2022 Philip F De Pinto

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