Then by Ed Stone

I am not a silent poet

Then, while sanity stumped one
plastic leg across a tightrope
of artificial blue baby gut
while all the rice in China
was picked for a nuclear boil
while genes and corpuscles
coughed blood in lead shelters
while Venus pooted sonic booms
and trapped Apollo in her new
flagpole arms while a teatless
cow was blown twice by a vulture
while I was warned by highest
priests to keep my mind clean
myself dressed as a child
ran laughing out of my head
my eyes crapped steel dice
my tongue thrashed on fire
my lips ashed to gunpowder
spat the last lousy bullet.

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