I am of three minds—
an un-whole trinity
built by ghostly id,
god-sick conscience,
and the son of never-
virginal egos—
interlocked inside
a mortal’s spirited
head-in-head conflict.
To the fabulous free
goes my prized heart’s
spoiled meat. Cooked rare,
its fetid, red juices
run in all directions.
To the fabulous free
goes my prized heart’s
spoiled meat. Cooked rare,
its fetid, red juices
run in all directions.
6 comments:
Very good one.
Cooked rare,
its fetid, red juices
run in all directions.
...is the best part.
Francis,
You have now put some meat on to the bones!
Perfect.....
Eileen
getting to the heart of the matter
removing the mask of persona
putting past on the plate
exposing the quest(ion)
cramming a paragraph of thoughts into a hyphenated word
funky images
taking the plunge from the macrocosm of the universe into the microcosm of the self
this is a brave work!
(in both modern and old sense of the word)
:)
Superb and cutting text and image, Francis! My favorite part is the last three lines.
Nice, I like the last three lines too :)
I love the words and the picture like a ocean of mouth with 3 ways to the inner soul of the heart,Just my thoughts to a wonderful share.
sonshine
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