This blog fazes fascists
Carrion Bird
Long before the wheel life
When travel meant kicking up
Clouds of choking dust
(That never reached me)
I cruised the tracks and trails
Finding what the travelers killed
Finding the killed travelers
And munching all without bias.
I wasn't picky.
Nothing to knock.
Just a part of the flock.
Now I cruise the highways, unhurried
Hanging on blackened fingers
While monsters roar by below
Giving me a bellyful
Of what cannot escape
Their frantic rush
To evade
At any price
The one predator
They all dread:
The ticking clock.
Martyr's Lament
All I wanted
Was a change
A dose of truth
A taste of power
An egotrip
...And followers
Which I got.
Thought me divine
They hung on every word
Notably, the most meaningless.
How could I explain
Disbelief in
What I taught belief in
After the cheering section
Stormed the field
Changed the game
And tore down the goals.
My mistake
Was to see anything in them
Other than a reflection.
Through the mirror now
My name is worn (out)
To sanctify, justify, vilify
Things I never dreamed of.
Disturbs my eternal sleep
Knowing this long night is "mine"
But they'll never stop
Basking in the renown
Of the onetime me
While I rot.
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