The angels lied,
The stars are falling,
A starscape and horizon afire,
A conflagrant deluge of feathers,
My fellow parasites have already fled to the chapels,
Tipsy on bread and wine,

But I stand here a heretic,
My only friend,
A goat with a thousand eyes,
Veiled in sulphurous musk,
He told me to escape to hell,
That salvation rested in cavernous limbo,

The devil would never lie,
So with blistered hands I dig,
A garden of mundane dirt,
No longer a lawn,
Mocked by a charred hanging tree,
Encircled by worm-riddled picket,

As you regard this pagan,
You think me mad,
My countenance screams so,
Mayhap I am,
I smolder endlessly now,
But I escaped your holy apocalypse.

Comments
  1. shauna says:

    Smoldering endlessly doesn’t sound like a good time to me, honestly. Really don’t wish that for anyone.

  2. historyjoe23 says:

    I love your descriptions… They’re so vivid and make it easy to see things in my mind’s eye.

    I’m building a Facebook page, “Found Online,” where I can share links to poems I really enjoy for others to visit your site and explore your work. This poem is one I chose to link to. Check out the page at: https://www.facebook.com/joestoutfoundonline

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