7.20.2011

Day 95 (Things That Happen When The Tea Party Balances A Budget)


The slash
And
Cut
Through solid tendon
Ripping what once tore swift Achilles from his soft padded leather footing
 
Trampled
By quick hoof
Pounding
After quick hoof
 
And what point did your time make? Was it dug in sand slowly washed clean by the tides move in and out? 
And was it you who chose to forgo the death that came so naturally to your past hand? 
 
Dutifully did you tie your hands clasped behind small back in search of the second life unguarunteed?
And when you pass will some say you never danced pale in moon lit evening? 
 
A life consumed
Follow that which cannot be define
Broken hand that you slammed fist into the coin collection
Gilded brass plate passed and never consumed
 
Save for the savior
Leader of the wool eyed flock
Lost in the mythology
Captivated by a mortality so few come to see
 
And there you sat
Growing fat 
Gnashing teeth in search of meaning
 

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