Tattoos in Mayberry

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Born into darkness.
Earth signs.
Terra firma children
Not of the Sea or air.
Emerald prince and princesses of dirt.
Anointed by subterranean marsh priests
and priestesses.
Flourishing in underworlds of decay.
Grand Dukes and Duchesses of seed
and root.
Their arteries, mineral rich.
Builders of compost pyramids
Ensconsed in mud castles 
with underground moat.
Stewards of mulch serve 
Honor Guards of dirt.
Born into darkness
Bury our dead deep in sarcophagi,  
Tunneling diligently into the sludge, and muck,
down to bedrock.
Our universe  seeped in ancient mysterious, darkness
a blind wanderland between moon and shadow...
Twisting,  squirming
digging, probing deep,
bubble and sqeak 
around, and under  hell hot geiser springs
through gauntlets of scalding steam
in skin suits
netherworld foot hills
 baptized by magma.
Sidling, slithering 
to the finish line at
 absolute bottom.

Worm palace for a King 
ruling his
Kingdom of dirt.
Mazes of dug outs
leading to  cavernous passage ways.
Sorting out  the depths  of  debris ,
Hashing over dirt of the day.
Making merry and myth
holding court, tongues loose with malange,
telling our perilous stories, .
 squatters rights well established.
 legal title with bonafide, signed permission to
keep digging ever deeper in the dark..
The High Minister of soil makers decree it.
To ensure survival
Virgin ground is annexed
sifting and upliffting
parcel and section
of  unmolested bottom soil.
Until the end of times, as the holy books have predicted 
 pools o suffocatingf rainwater seeps in
 from the great flood as predicted. 
grateful, we begin dancing praying, crying\
praying to God we have a quick, merciful death
flattened by cars. eaten quickly by flying things.
Praying we don't drown in a puddle
an inch away from a dry mound of dirt.



Buddy Bee Anthony
 
All editing and publishing rights reserved ' as is' by this author




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Worm Kingdom Crumbles