Selected Poems
Put the candle, BACK.
Mobs typically carry pitchforks and torches.
Our villagers bear new cellphone flashlights.
New age rioters grip offense tightly, with both hands
and are allowed to run amuck, swinging baseless rumors.
Former friends are angered and storm the castle,
hunting for the built at home, do it yourself
monster. They look to loot and burn what's left.
Finding only mirrors, they sink into madness.
Turn loose howling hounds and come.
You can find your wanted monster here.
Meet it face to face, at the windmill
Together at last, we can all burn.
Our villagers bear new cellphone flashlights.
New age rioters grip offense tightly, with both hands
and are allowed to run amuck, swinging baseless rumors.
Former friends are angered and storm the castle,
hunting for the built at home, do it yourself
monster. They look to loot and burn what's left.
Finding only mirrors, they sink into madness.
Turn loose howling hounds and come.
You can find your wanted monster here.
Meet it face to face, at the windmill
Together at last, we can all burn.
